Love Is Alive
by RoyalCrimsonCloak
Summary: Hermione has miscarried another baby. Ron, her husband, is now allowed to divorce her thanks to an antiquated wizarding law. Destitute and homeless, she seeks solace in Harry. They share a night of passion, and Hermione parts pregnant. She is afraid to tell him because of fear of miscarrying again. Harry finds out and poses a challenge: can they give the miracle baby a sibling?
1. Prologue

**Author's Note: This prompt was graciously borrowed from Cheryk in the Harmony & Co Facebook group. Thank you again to the fabulous Mrs. Ren, without whom this ship would have sunk months ago. Secondly, there are several warnings: Mentions of spousal abuse, miscarriage, and the dirtiest words of all: "Ron Weasley". You have been forewarned. All rights belong to her Majesty of Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling. Enjoy the story!**

The room was dark and Hermione Weasley neé Granger was thankful. The headache she had would rival that of the Dementor's Kiss. She lay half curled in the single bed in the private antenatal ward of St Mungo's. She raised her hand, her fingers still trembling as she struggled to wipe the salty tears that slid down her cheeks. She had miscarried again, for the third time. But this time, she knew what fate awaited her.

According to a _ridiculous _antiquated law, if a woman had failed to provide an heir in five years of marriage, her partner could legally divorce her and throw her out. Compared to the sham of a marriage she was in now, it sounded like paradise for her. For once she was thankful to be alone, because she couldn't stand the thought of another snide comment from her mother-in-law. The last remark of, "Oh, you could give me plenty of grandbabies if you'd work less, my dear," rattled about in her head like a loose Cornish pixie.

Her hand flitted to her stomach subconsciously to rub the once soft swell. When she realised what she was doing, a fresh wave of tears slid unbridled down her hollow cheeks.

A light rap at the door made her pause. Hermione wiped her cheeks, her breathing strained as she attempted to pull herself together the best she could.

"Come in," she rasped.

Senior Healer Pansy Parkinson crossed the threshold, closing the door behind her. She stopped at the foot of the bed, flicking her wand lightly at Hermione to run the diagnostic spells.

"Mrs Weasl—"

"Please, call me Hermione, Pansy. We've been friends for almost two years now," the brunette chided gently.

At this, the raven-haired woman lightly blushed, but nodded in agreement.

"Besides, I was never truly a Weasley," Hermione added sadly.

"Is he here?" Hermione asked, bottom lip quivering.

Pansy looked anywhere but here before softly replying, "I'm so sorry."

She sucked in a breath. "That answers that then."


	2. Chapter One

**Author's Note: This prompt was graciously borrowed from Cheryk. Thank you again to the fabulous Mrs. Ren, without whom this ship would have sunk months ago. Secondly, there are several warnings: Mentions of spousal abuse, miscarriage, and the dirtiest words of all: "Ron Weasley". You have been forewarned. All rights belong to her Majesty of Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling. Enjoy the story!**

_Four Months Later_

Harry Potter was sprawled out face down on the well worn leather sofa at his flat on the outskirts of Muggle London. The flat was nice, but well lived in with Quidditch gear scattered around the lounge. He was half asleep when the doorbell rang, startling him. He jumped up and rubbed his hands down his face to clear the sleep from his eyes, then snatched up his glasses from the metal and glass coffee table, putting them on.

He quickly picked up his wand from the matching side table and flicked it, silently cleaning the lounge in one go. The doorbell rang again and he hurried over to the door and peered through the peephole to find a pale Hermione. He flicked his wand again and allowed the door to open and reached out and gathered her into his arms. He squeezed her gently, but felt her flinch and quickly relinquished his hold on her. He stepped back into the room and she hesitantly followed him.

"Harry…I've nowhere to go. Would it be alright if I stayed with you awhile? My divorce was final two days ago and he kicked me out," she whispered, peering up at him with watery eyes.

"Of course you can, 'Mione," he replied easily. The young woman managed a wan smile for her best friend whom she trusted with her life.

She clutched her worn beaded bag closely— the same bag that had saved her life five years earlier as she shuffled further into the room. Harry sat her on the sofa and perched on the coffee table in front of her.

The witch glanced at him warily as she waited for him to speak. He cleared his throat twice before speaking.

"Hermione, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I wasn't there when you lost the last baby," he exhaled. "Ron is a git and I'm not thrilled with him. I know you loved him but he was a—"

He was cut off by a blur of chestnut being launched at him. Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and sobbed into his neck, the dam finally breaking.

"Oh, 'Mione," Harry sighed. He shifted, with her still in his lap, to the sofa and held her snugly, rubbing her back and whispering comforting things in her ear.

* * *

Hermione sat on the opposite end of the couch, her legs tucked neatly below her so she wouldn't take up so much space. He was already being so gracious to let her stay; Hermione didn't want to overstep in the smallest of matters.

Harry's eyes were dark, a bit calculating as he handed her a cup of tea. "Hermione—"

She swiftly cut him off, already knowing the words that were about to tumble from his lips. "How are you? I've scarcely had a chance to speak with you. How is the DMLE?"

"Fine," he said slowly, "but that's not important right now."

"Of course it's important!" Hermione admonished.

His eyes flickered behind the wire frames of his glasses, and Hermione knew there was no avoiding the hippogriff in the room. "I would say there are more important things to talk about, 'Mione."

She felt his gaze fall on her as she tucked stray pieces of hair behind her ears. Hermione set her cup on the table, hand shaking as the last several months played on repeat in her head. "Like what?" Hermione asked, her voice cracking and she had never felt smaller than she did then.

His eyes were unforgiving, but that anger wasn't for her. Not at all. "I'd like to hear about the last few months of your marriage if you'll tell me." Harry said evenly.

She sighed wearily and began speaking, "Things were wonderful up until six months ago, Harry. He had just gotten his promotion with the Chudley Cannons as you know, and things were better for us. He still blanched at the thought of me working, saying that, 'A man is supposed to provide for his wife'." At this, Harry rolled his eyes, but didn't say anything. "He wanted to celebrate the night he got his promotion, so he got piss drunk and...had his way with me, as he likes to put it," she acquiesced, shuddering again. Harry's eyes flickered with anger, but he kept silent still. "A few weeks later, I woke up one morning nauseated and kept my fingers crossed as I performed the spell and it was indeed positive. I was pregnant for the third time. I thought that the third time would be the charm and I could _finally _make him happy," she sighed.

She exhaled shakily and picked up the forgotten tea cup and took a sip of the now tepid tea. She sat the cup back down and managed to finish her word spiel.

"He was angry at the coach when he came home and decided to take it out on me. I tried to ask him what was wrong, to comfort him, but he didn't want to see me. I still tried, despite being told I wasn't wanted, and he shoved me into the corridor to get me out of his sight. He then locked me...he locked me in the corridor wardrobe that is immune to magic overnight without food," she said haltingly, "and he put a silencing spell on the room too. Thankfully the spell broke when he left the next morning and I banged on the door loud enough for my neighbour to get into the flat and let me out. I had to make up a lie about accidentally losing the key so they wouldn't get suspicious." She sniffled and exhaled, determined to finish.

Harry had had enough. He scooted down by her and touched her arm lightly. "'Mione, it's alright," he spoke softly, rubbing her arm gently. "You don't have to tell me everything. You are so brave and so strong, Hermione Jean. I know it wasn't easy to be married to that red-headed git, but you _survived_."

She nodded, tears brimming in her eyes. She gripped his hand tightly and continued recalling how horrible the last six months of her marriage had gone. "When he came home that afternoon, he apologised profusely and gave me the half dozen peach roses that he'd picked up at the corner flower stand and told me he loved me. He had done this before but I still got my hopes up that he was _actually _going to change this time around. I told him I was pregnant and he smiled a little, but then it went south that night. He got drunk again and hit me. I owled Molly the next day but she had already turned a blind eye to his abuse. Her only response was, 'My Ron isn't like that. He loves you, dear.' That was also the day I lost the...the baby. I floo'ed myself to St. Mungos and Pansy met me at the front desk like she _knew _what was coming. She took such wonderful care of me but I persuaded her not to notify Magical Welfare for Witches.

"Two weeks later, I received notification that papers for the divorce had been filed with the Marriage Registry Office. I was torn between relief and fear—relief because I was finally free from him, but fear because I had nowhere to turn…"she trailed off, looking away from him briefly, shame evident on her face.

"Hermione," he sang softly, "you know you can always turn to me. I am so sorry you had to go through that. I cannot imagine how you feel losing another— your third baby, but know that I am here for you, 'Mione. It's the _least _I can do after all you have done for me over the years." He kissed her forehead, eliciting another wan smile from her.

"Thanks, Harry," she whispered gratefully. Her eyes flickered to his lips and the sudden urge to kiss those lips overwhelmed her. His eyes flickered to hers, wondering what she was about to do. She swallowed hard and pressed her lips lightly to his, still overwhelmed at the sudden freedom she had to express how she felt about him. The movements startled him, but he didn't pull away. He hesitated briefly, then snaked his arms around her lower back and kissed her slowly so as not to scare her. A soft glow emanated between them, surrounding them in pale gold light, then disappeared as quickly as it came. The pair was oblivious to it, deeply engrossed in the soft, nipping kisses.

Harry finally broke the kiss, trailing his lips along her neck, evoking soft moans from the brunette's lips. He tugged gently at her curls before nestling his nose in her neck, breathless. She deftly wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head to his chest.

"Alright?" he queried. She nodded, relaxed in his embrace, finally feeling safe for the first time in two years. He smoothed her sleek curls, sinking back into the cushions with her snug in his arms.

* * *

A month later, Hermione met Pansy at the new cafe aptly named Witches' Brew in Diagon Alley. The moment Pansy sat down across the table from the curly-headed witch, she smirked, charistically like a blond-headed ferret from which the original smirk came. "Witch, what happened to you," she asked unabashedly. She sat her bag at her feet and gave the waiting waitress her order.

Hermione blushed a pretty pink, stalling. "Merlin, Pansy, have you been totally corrupted by the Ferret?" she asked, giggling.

Pansy snorted in an unladylike manner, but nodded in admission.

The waitress levitated their orders of tea and raspberry scones and sat the tray on the edge of the table, then walked away.

"Hermione, you know when he and I finally started to date that corruption was inevitable," she chided, waggling her eyebrows, eliciting another laugh from the witch across from her. "But enough about me. Tell me about this new bloke you've found, Hermione Jean! He's doing something for you, because you look great, and I mean that sincerely. Not just as your friend, but as your Healer also," she smiled genuinely, sipping her tea slowly.

"I—I don't have a new man, Pans," she spluttered, her blush deepening, almost choking on a bit of scone.

"Tosh, witch! Spill," the raven-haired witch demanded, eyes sparkling.

Hermione blew her hair away from her eyes, conceding. "Fine, you win," she rolled her eyes good naturedly. "It's actually Harry," she mumbled shyly.

"Harry?!" Pansy squawked. "Merlin, Hermione. I'm so happy for you! You deserve goodness after that pile of hippogriff dung you were married to for way too long."

"We are just friends, Pansy," she protested, taking a sip of tea.

"Nonsense," the other witch insisted, "you're healthier than you've been in years and you're _actually _smiling. Whatever you two are doing, keep doing it. And that's Healer's orders, as well as best friend's orders," she requested.

"We just kissed a month ago, Pansy," she half shrieked.

"Nonetheless, let him help you. You deserve him and he deserves you. Sort out your feelings for him, or don't. A good shag would do wonders for you," she winked conspiratorially. This caused the witch in question to blush crimson. Pansy cackled, but reached over and squeezed her hand gently. "I mean that with all sincerity," she acquiesced while trying not to laugh at her friend's demise.

"Alright, Pans. I'll try," she relented, smiling genuinely.

The witches said their goodbyes and Pansy Apparated away while Hermione chose to stroll back to Harry's flat since it was a rare sunny day in London. She felt rejuvenated after her outing with Pansy, the happiness evident on her face.

* * *

She still was dreadfully thin, but Harry cooked so well for her it would be no time at all until she was at a healthy weight again. He really took wonderful care of her, barely letting her lift a finger around the flat. Even when he was away, he made sure she was taken care of thanks to a sweet little house elf named Bluebell. Normally Hermione would have been opposed to having a house elf serve her, but Harry assured her that the little elf lived to serve and warned her good-naturedly not to try and free the elf.

She reached the block of flats where Harry's was and entered the lobby and made her way to his flat. She withdrew her wand from the sheath sewn into her pants and tapped the door three times and muttered the correct incantation to be let into the flat. She pushed the door open and stepped inside. "Harry, are you home?" She called out.

"In the kitchen," he returned cheerfully, causing her to smile.

She set her bag down in her usual spot by the sofa and made her way to the kitchen where the shirtless and well-toned wizard had his back to her, manning the stainless steel range as a wave of delectable scents assaulted her nose. Her cheeks flamed as she shamelessly ogled his muscular back, silently thanking Merlin for the view. When she realised what she was doing, she quickly shook herself to clear the thoughts, but still appreciated how fit he was. She walked around the butcher's block and pecked his cheek. "Smells delicious, whatever it is," she grinned, "because I'm famished even though I just had scones with Pansy."

"That's a good thing to hear because we're having Shepherd's pie," he chirped. He waved his wand to keep the temperatures under the burners steady and turned to face her after she was seated on a stool behind the butcher's block. He folded his arms, causing his biceps to flex, temporarily rendering the witch speechless.

"'Mione, you alright?" He teased.

She nodded, snapping her eyes back up to his. "Sorry, distracted," she murmured.

Harry quirked an eyebrow at her. "Want to tell me what's on that beautiful mind of yours? Or is that privileged information," he asked in the same teasing manner.

She sat up straighter and took a deep breath. "Pansy cornered me earlier and asked me what had changed. I told her that you had kissed me," she admitted, "but she was happy for me Harry, and I am truly happy with this arrangement. I know I tell you daily how thankful I am that you have been helping me but I have not felt this _alive _in ages."

He smiled kindly at her. "You don't have to keep thanking me, 'Mione. I am grateful that you came to me instead of going to the Weasleys," he grumped, scowling.

Her eyes widened, and he rushed over to her. "Mione, I'm not angry at you, you're safe here. I'm angry at that insufferable family who turned a blind eye to the abuse that you suffered at his hand." He kissed the top of her head, wrapping his arms around her. He felt her sink into his hold, and he stroked her back lightly.

She was vaguely aware of his warm skin against her face but she allowed herself to enjoy it, pushing negative thoughts out of her mind. She pressed a light kiss to the spot above his heart, blushing faintly.

"Thank you, Harry," she whispered.

"You're welcome, Hermione. I wouldn't do this for just anyone, you know," he supplied, winking at her playfully. A myriad of mixed feelings rattled around in his brain and hers too, but they pushed them aside. He let go of her and stepped back to the range to finish the Shepherd's pie.

She waved her wand and opened the cabinet and levitated two plates and two glasses into place on the table nestled under a picture window at the opposite end of the kitchen. Using a wordless _accio _and guiding her wand through the air with a flourish, Hermione guided silverware, and napkins to the table. The fork almost struck Harry in the temple as she offered a weak smile as he stared at her, the corner of his lips twitching.

"Show-off," Harry teased. He was in a really good mood tonight and Hermione knew it was because of the successful mission earlier in the week.

He turned the burners off on the range and brought the pan over to the table and placed it on a tea towel that had been thoughtfully laid out. Hermione grinned at him and retrieved the pumpkin juice pitcher from the fridge. She sat it down on the table and allowed Harry to pull her chair out for her.

"Thank you," she grinned again at him. They ate in companionable silence with the occasional smattering of conversation. When they were finished, Harry cleared the dishes by hand and sent an exhausted Hermione off to bed.


	3. Chapter Two

**A/N: Again, a gracious thank-you to Cheryk for the use of her prompt. Warning: mentions of miscarriage, Weasley bashing, and abuse. Proceed at your own risk.**

The next morning, a sleepy Hermione exited her bedroom, still clad in a pair of sleep pants and shirt she had nicked from Harry on her first night there. Harry was seated in a comfortable chair, perusing the Daily Prophet. Since Luna Lovegood had bought the paper out in 1999, it had improved vastly and the reporting done was mostly accurate. He must have sensed her, as he flicked the paper closed and smiled at her.

"Did you sleep well, 'Mione?" he asked, even though he knew the answer. For the first few weeks since she had moved in, he had woken like clockwork around four A.M. to her screams that clenched his heart and made him ache as she suffered. He couldn't go into her room because she had warded the door, a security habit left over from her time with Ron. She shook her head and made her way to the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea.

An owl hooted and Harry looked up to see Ares, his owl, perched on the windowsill with a letter clutched in his beak. He got up and went directly to the window and pried the scroll loose, while Ares hooted at him grumpily. "Behave, Ares," he warned. The owl hooted again at him and flew off into the morning sun. "Grumpy owl," Harry muttered to himself, causing a still-sleepy Hermione to laugh as she re-entered the lounge.

"You know the book on magical companions says that owls turn out to be like their owners, don't you Harry?" she smirked. Harry huffed out a laugh and turned his focus back to the letter in his hand. He unfurled it and smiled when he recognised his mother's delicate, loopy handwriting.

_Harry, _

_I was so glad to hear from you. I am so proud of you son and your work for the DMLE. Your father and I are adjusting back to the house in Godric's Hollow. I don't know if I said thank you for having it restored, but thank you so much. It was wonderful to come back to after being away in the States for almost twenty years. Your father sends his love. Please tell Hermione I said hello. _

_-Mum _

He smiled at the letter and rolled it back up and stuck it in his trouser pocket.

"Letter from your Mum?" Hermione inquired.

"Yeah, and she says hello. They're getting settled back into Godric's Hollow. It's amazing. I thought I'd have to live my entire life without them, but Kings saved their life by sending them on that long-term mission to the States and altering their image, not to mention the amount of complicated spells to disguise their magic."

Hermione curled into the couch, sipping her mint tea and listening to him, smiling. She wordlessly summoned the paper, having worked hard on her nonverbal magic with Harry since she'd moved in, and scanned it to see if there were any openings in the Career Corner. She focused, and several deep purple circles appeared around positions she was interested in. She folded the paper back and laid it on the coffee table to finish her tea. Once she drained the cup, she waved her hand and sent it back to the kitchen.

She stretched, causing a bit of her pale midriff to show as Harry's eyes drifted to that patch of skin. His mouth went dry but he quickly averted his gaze, his cheeks heating up. Hermione stood and crossed the room, passing Harry and ruffling his hair playfully after kissing his nose and sashaying to the bathroom to shower. He flopped back into the chair, sighing. He was going to have to do something soon because he wasn't _supposed _to be lusting after his best friend, let alone having feelings for her.

* * *

Hermione closed the door to the bathroom just off her bedroom and exhaled. _Why _had she kissed Harry on the nose? He wasn't interested in her like that! She shook her head and stripped , tossing her clothes into the hamper and slid the glass shower door open. She turned the taps on to adjust the water as she liked it. She wordlessly cast a spell to fog up the shower door to preserve privacy out of habit. She didn't lock the door because she felt safe in Harry's home and trusted him. She stepped into the shower and closed the door and picked up the jasmine-scented soap that Harry had gotten her on his last trip to Paris. She smiled as she lathered it onto her skin, lost in thought.

A quiet knock on the door startled her, causing her to shriek. "Hermione it's just me. You're safe. Can I come in?" Harry cajoled sweetly.

"C-Come in, Harry," she stuttered, forcing herself to breathe calmly.

The door opened and shut, Harry's footsteps following before there was a quiet groan as he sat down on the stool she kept in the corner of the room near the shower.

"What's on your mind, Harry?" she queried, a bit nervous, poking her head out of the shower.

"Well, um," he hesitated. He tapped his fingers on his knee, trying to figure out how to say it.

"Just spill it, Harry," she pleaded quietly, "you're making me nervous."

"Right, sorry," he murmured, taking a deep breath. "For a week now, I have been thinking more and more of you. Please don't be afraid, Hermione. I'm not going to hurt you. You're my best friend, and I don't want to do anything to scare you off, or damage our friendship. You mean so much to me, 'Mione. You've been there for me and looked out for me for as long as I can remember," he smiled fondly in her direction.

She stopped rinsing herself off, blushing faintly as she listened to his words. She shut the water off and grabbed the royal purple robe that hung on the dry end of the shower and wrapped it around herself and stepped out of the shower, eyeing him.

"Harry, what are you saying?" she implored. She didn't want to get her hopes because that was how things started with Ron and she couldn't—wouldn't survive another ordeal like that.

He looked at her steadily, sincerely and replied, "Hermione, I have feelings for you and I'm tired of tiptoeing around it. I kept it to myself because I didn't want to rush you, much less scare you off. I've dated many girls, but none of them—absolutely none of them—compare to you, love. I know I have horrible timing, but it's _you_. You know me so well and just…" he trailed off.

She stood before him, unmoving. She had no idea what to say.

"'Mione, say something please," he panicked. He hesitantly reached and took her hand in his, lightly squeezing her fingers. She jumped, startled at the sudden contact, but calmed when she realised it was Harry. The Harry that could be _her _Harry.

A slow smile formed on her face, a warmth blooming in her chest. She exhaled steadily and squeezed his fingers in return. "As much as I like your presence, I really need to get dressed, and do some thinking," she returned. "But I'm not rejecting you Harry, it's just a lot to ingest."

* * *

After shoo-ing Harry out of the bathroom, she settled heavily on the same stool he had just vacated. She ran her fingers through her riotous curls, trying to steady her racing heartbeat. _He has feelings for me! _She thought. She quickly towelled dry after hanging the robe up, then pulled on her other one and padded out to her bedroom. She dressed in a pair of leggings and one of Harry's old Quidditch jerseys. She flopped backwards on her bed, spread-eagled as she tried to digest what Harry had just told her. _Well at least he feels how I do, _she surmised.

_Get ahold of yourself. You're a witch, you're a powerful witch. Harry won't treat you like Ronald did. You're safe with him; he cares for you. What could you lose? _The sane part of her mind pondered. _**Everything, **_another voice in her head snarled. She sighed loudly and bounced up, causing her joints to mildly protest. _You can do this, _she reminded herself sternly.

* * *

Harry was stretched out comfortably on the sofa, mindlessly flicking through the telly channels, but turned it off quickly when he saw Hermione come into the room. He smiled weakly at her, but then realised that she too wore a hesitant smile, so he relaxed a little. He sat up as she neared the sofa and scooted down so she could sit on her side, facing him. He observed her, trying to gauge how she felt but couldn't quite make it out. She inhaled deeply and gazed steadily at him.

"First off, I'm not angry with you at all, Harry," she spoke gently. She brushed her fingertips across his arm lightly, sending shivers up and down his spine. "I _am _confused at how you could feel that way about someone like _me," _she whispered as she dropped her gaze into her lap. Harry scooted closer and eased a finger under her chin and lifted it.

"Look at me, Hermione," he whispered gruffly. She reluctantly did as he asked and peered at his beautiful emerald eyes, which were alight with a fire she'd never seen before. "You're beautiful, kind-hearted, and a powerful witch. A man would have to be a blind Niffler to not see your beauty. It's not just outside, it's inside too," he smiled gently and brushed a curl aside. He leaned in closer, hesitating at first, but brushed a featherlight kiss to her lips, heart racing.

She curled her fingers loosely around his biceps, unable to wrap them all the way around. He pulled back all too soon and she tried not to show her displeasure, but managed to school her features.

"S..sorry," Harry stuttered, blushing sheepishly.

"Nothing to be sorry for, Harry…" she murmured. The redness on her cheeks reached the tip of her ears, turning her entire face a lovely shade of pink. She scooted back to her end of the couch, dazed, but smiling like a well-fed cat.

Harry cleared his throat. "So, erm, have you found a position you like yet?"

Hermione yelped, blushing further.

"Oh, I didn't mean it like that. Merlin!" His face quickly matched hers, thoroughly embarrassed at his question. Thankfully an owl hooted from the window perch and Hermione leapt up to get it. It was Pansy's owl and she was beyond glad to see it. She took her time to allow the heat in her cheeks to fade and sent the owl on its way with a treat. She took the scroll and flopped down into the nearest chair and began to read.

_Hermione, _

_It's been a few days since I've heard from you so I just wanted to see how things were going. You really need to tell him how you feel and jump his bones before some other witch snatches him up! Healer's orders. _

_-Pansy_

Hermione folded the letter back up and rolled her eyes. _Merlin, _she regretted telling Pansy about how she felt about Harry. The witch had pestered her ever since!

"Everything alright, 'Mione?" Harry asked, breaking her out of her reprieve.

"Yeah, Harry," she replied dazedly. He paused beside her chair and tugged a loose curl gently.

"Err, woulditbealrightifItookyouonadatetonight?" he rushed out, rubbing the back of his neck shyly.

"You want to take me out on a _date?_" she squeaked.

Harry nodded jerkily, afraid she'd reject him. What he didn't expect was for a blur of chestnut curls to rush at him, much like they had when his best friend first moved in.

"Of _course _I'd love to Harry!" she gushed excitedly, arms wrapped tightly around him. "I just… wow," she trailed off, for once speechless.

Harry grinned wickedly, finally successful in having rendered his beautiful know-it-all speechless for once.

"I have to owl Pansy! I haven't a thing to wear," she bemoaned. She rushed to her bedroom to do just that.

* * *

A few hours later, Hermione exited her bedroom again. Pansy had graciously floo'ed over to help her get ready earlier in the day. The raven-haired witch had brought an assortment of dresses for Hermione to try on, along with matching shoes and several boxes of makeup products. Pansy had taken it upon herself to transform her dear friend for the _date of the century _as it had been dubbed between the pair of witches.

As she stepped in to Harry's line of sight, the air in his lungs stilled. She was breathtaking. A sleeveless navy dress with a sweetheart neckline hugged the witch's curves, flaring out at the waist. The fabric shimmered in the light, giving the dress a slightly whimsical feel. Her hair was twisted up in an elegant chignon, a few curls loose at her temples. Her make up was kept simple, save for a deep red lipstick that complemented her fair skin beautifully.

Harry swiftly crossed the room and took her hand, kissing her knuckles. "You look radiant, Hermione Jean," he whispered reverently, pressing another kiss to her knuckles. The witch blushed prettily as Harry squeezed her hand.

" I _feel _pretty," she acknowledged shyly.

Harry's eyes darkened in anger at her statement. "I'm sorry he made you feel like you weren't a goddess, Hermione," he ground out. He looked her in the eye and continued. "You are absolutely beautiful and Merlin help the man whoever makes you feel less than."

She ducked her head, cheeks flaming. She struggled briefly to retain her composure but managed to keep the tears at bay.

"Now, Miss Granger," he crooned. "We need to go, or we will be late for a very important date," he joked. She rolled her eyes and laughed. He held out the shawl she had laid out and she took it, wrapping it around her shoulders. She hooked her arm through his and he Apparated them quietly to their date spot.


	4. Chapter Three

**A/N: Again thank you to the awesome Mrs. Ren for being a kicktail Alpha. Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling. Any unfamiliar spells are of my creation. Warning: Mentions of miscarriage, heavy Dumbledore bashing, abuse, and heavy Weasley bashing. Proceed at your own risk. **

Hermione kept her eyes squeezed shut and her grip firmly around Harry's waist until she felt her feet touch solid ground. Harry put his hand on her arm lightly and whispered, "We're here, 'Mione. You can open your eyes now," he teased gently.

She pried her eyes open, her jaw immediately dropping when she beheld the sight before her. The park where she grew up—a welcoming sight. Harry had remembered! She looked up at Harry, who towered over her, smiling broadly. "Harry! How did you...when did you…?" she spluttered.

"I'm not entirely daft, witch," he jabbed playfully.

She stood quietly, in awe. Pleasant memories from her childhood bubbled up in her stomach, bringing a warm smile to her face, the first sincere one in several weeks. Kensington Gardens held a special place in her heart, as it was one of the last places she visited with her beloved parents, Richard & Jean Granger. _Before she took their memories. _She let go of Harry, but he wrapped his arm around her waist and guided them to a shaded area where a lush picnic quilt was spread under an oak tree, laden with a smorgasbord of food. He let her go and eased down onto the quilt after helping her sit.

"I feel overdressed," she bemoaned.

Harry cracked up, his face mirthful. "Maybe I just wanted an excuse to stare at you," he smirked, causing Hermione to throw a grape at him.

"This is lovely, Harry, really," she smiled at him. "But how did you remember that I always came to Kensington gardens with my parents?"

He had a bite of sandwich halfway to his mouth, but stopped to answer her. "I remember in third year when you came back from summer hols and wrote me about how beautiful they were and I was a bit envious because I was locked inside that small bedroom the entire summer," he gruffed.

Hermione reached over and lightly squeezed his hand in a gesture of comfort. She knew how difficult it was for Harry to recount his childhood, but at the same time admired his bravery for being able to broach the subject.

"So, how are your mum and dad?" she asked as she munched on a crisp, relaxed against the mound of pillows.

"They're doing great, actually, and getting settled in again at Potter Manor," he replied, snatching a crisp from her plate. She shot him a half-hearted glare, eliciting a snicker from him.

"Potter Manor? I thought they only had the home in Godric's Hollow," she queried. Harry shook his head, mouth full of crisp.

He swallowed then answered her,"When they returned from hiding out in the States, they immediately went to Gringotts to reestablish themselves in the United Kingdom. Thankfully while they were gone, Sirius took care of things and lined up everything in case they were able to return…" he trailed off. "When he was going through important papers, he noticed another property that was not previously mentioned and he checked it out and it turned out to be Dad's ancestral home."

Hermione looked at him, shocked. "Wow, Harry. That's really something to come home to," she mused, plucking a grape from the bunch and popping it in her mouth.

Harry nodded in acknowledgement, polishing off another sandwich.

"So what actually happened to your parents twenty years ago, Harry?" she asked carefully.

Harry stretched out on the quilt, his head in her lap. She carded her fingers delicately through his dark mop, causing his eyes to droop a little. She smiled softly at him, relaxing as he did so.

"Well, from how Mum told it, Halloween night of 1981 was a night of darkness in many ways. When Voldemort infiltrated the house because Pettigrew gave up the Fidelius secret, Moody and Moony were alerted because they were also Secret Keepers. Moody had given my parents a portkey that could be activated at any moment, but Dumbledore refused to allow me to go with them to escape Voldemort that night. So he told me for as long as I can remember that my parents had died, refusing Moony and Moody to tell me the truth. I suspect he kept them under a mild Confundus charm the entire time they were professors at Hogwarts."

Hermione scowled at the air, irritated at Dumbledore's idiocy, tugging a little on his hair. Harry took a deep breath to continue his story.

"Finally, after we graduated and Dumbledore was long dead, an owl flew brought me a bundle of letters, several marked with the Gringotts seal, and two other, one whose writing I did not recognise at first. When I opened the ones from Gringotts, it stated that I was not Lord Potter because a family member who was still living had been located, still alive, and had returned to England to claim their rightful title as Lord Potter. The next one I opened was a letter from Remus, who had managed to escape alive with Tonks, and had moved to Ireland. He told me that my parents were alive and living in the United States under a heavy glamour charm and false identities. He apologised for not being able to tell me, but that old saggy pants wizard Dumbledore had prevented him from telling me anything," he rolled his eyes and exhaled again."

Hermione rubbed at the wrinkles in his forehead, smoothing them and soothing him, giving him courage to continue.

"I finally opened the last letter and it was from my Mum. I had gone twenty years believing that both my parents were dead because of Voldemort and because Dumbledore had lied to me for so long. I cried so much reading that letter, both in relief and anger." Hermione hugged his head lightly, pressing a chaste kiss to the top of it. He continued. "The next morning, I heard a knock at the door and when I opened it, my parents were standing there, smiling at me and I got to hug them after twenty years and it was the best feeling in the world," he breathed out in relief, then kissed her arm affectionately.

"Oh Harry," she whispered sympathetically. "I am so glad your parents are alive, and I cannot believe that Dumbledore would lie to you like that!" she growled.

He sat up and moved to sit cross legged across from her. "_I'm _sorry I spilled to you about depressing things on our first official date," he mumbled, embarrassed.

"Nonsense, Harry," she cooed. "I'm glad you just trust me enough to tell me these things, but I'm also sorry I didn't know about this sooner. Ron really didn't allow me to see any of you while we were married, and I'm sorry again about that," she mumbled at her lap. He nudged his finger under her chin, making her look at him. "Mione, it's not your fault. At all. Don't ever think that it is," he stated firmly but lovingly.

He then picked up a blueberry from the bowl of fruit and fed it to her, causing her to blush.

"So now that the depressing things are out of the way, have you still not found a position you like yet?" he smirked at her again, making her cheeks heat further.

"Merlin Harry! What is it with you and your dirty mind?" she gawked, picking up a pillow and hitting him with it.

Harry laid over, laughing.

"Harry James! It's not funny!" she bit her lip, trying not to join his laughter, but it was useless. She soon joined him, her delicate laugh creating a lovely melody with his deep baritone.

She took a sip of the pumpkin juice Harry had poured for her earlier and fanned herself to try and cool the redness in her cheeks. "Actually, I have. There is an empty shop in Diagon Alley that I would love to have and open my bookshop-cafe. The only problem is money and investing. I really need a partner to go in with me to help balance the books and handle other aspects," she mused.

Harry brightened when she explained what she wanted to do. "I'll buy the shop for you, 'Mione," he offered.

"Merlin no, Harry! I couldn't accept that from you," she started, but Harry held up a hand to silence her.

"Alright, if you won't let me buy it outright, then I'll go in as a silent partner and help you purchase the building," he groused, looking at her sternly, but lovingly. "I won't take no for an answer, Hermione Jean." he warned.

Her face morphed into shock, but she nodded. "Alright Harry, I'll let you be a silent partner, on the condition that you take some of the profit," she argued back.

"There she is," he snarked playfully. Hermione quirked an eyebrow at him, the corners of her mouth working into a smile. "Fine," he relented, "I'll take one percent of the profit and that's _it_," he replied firmly.

Hermione squeaked in delight and threw her arms around him in a tight embrace. "Thank you Harry! You're the greatest!" she gushed.

Harry nuzzled her hair, inhaling her feminine gardenia scent and tightened his arms around her, content to hold her forever that way. "You're welcome, sweet heart," he whispered in her ear, sending chills down her spine. He reluctantly released her and stood up, then reached to scoop her up too. With a snap of his fingers, their secluded corner returned to as it was before.

"Ready for the next portion," he asked, grinning down at her, eyes alight with happiness.

"Of course I am," she returned, matching his grin.

"Hold on tight, then." She gripped his hand tightly and he Apparated them away.

When she opened her eyes again, they were standing on the other side of the large park, near a beautiful gazebo flanked by colorful flowers of all sorts. A band was setting up to play inside it as the sun was beginning to set.

"Dancing?" she mused, unable to stop smiling. It was wonderful to just _be _with Harry.

He nodded at her. "I promise not to step on your toes this time," he supplied. She laughed quietly, almost wincing on the spot at the memory of the last time they danced together at their graduation party at the Burrow.

"Then lead the way, Mr. Potter," she mock bowed, earning a barking laugh from the wizard beside her.

He led her by the hand to the temporary dance floor just as the band was beginning to play. He drew her into his arms, dancing slowly with her. She rested her cheek against his shoulder, content as he danced with her. They danced in content quietness until the song ended.

She picked her head up and looked at him. "Well, you certainly have improved," she joked. A livelier tune began to play and he took her into his arms again, showing his skills and impressing the witch in his arms immensely.

As the night drew on, he noticed she was growing tired, so he leant down and whispered to her, "Getting tired, love?"

She nodded, so he helped her off the dance floor and to a secluded spot so they could Apparate to their final destination.

They landed smoothly outside of Susan's Sweet Treats in Diagon Alley, and he opened the door for her, then followed inside behind her. Susan Bones greeted them cheerily. "Hi, you two! What can I get you this evening?"

Hermione immediately pointed out the slice of strawberry cheesecake to Harry, her eyes alight like a child's. Harry couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm, so he looked back to Susan. "The strawberry cheesecake please, and two forks if you will."

The friendly witch nodded and removed the slice from the case and put it on a plate with two forks and handed it over to Harry. "Two galleons please," she chirped. Harry handed her the appropriate amount of money and escorted Hermione to a table near the back.

He pulled out a chair for her and took the other one for himself, placing the plate in the middle and handing her a fork. They shared the cheesecake in companionable silence, Hermione fighting to stay awake. Harry noticed this and squeezed her arm gently, signalling her to stand up and walked her outside, then Apparated them away.

They arrived in front of Harry's door, him having to hold her up practically from being dead on her feet. He unwarded his door silently and scooped her into his arms, carrying her inside and pushed the door closed with his foot, re-warding it in the same manner. He laid her down on the sofa, pressing a soft kiss on her forehead before retrieving the plush throw and spreading it over her, then flicked his wand and changed her into one of his old Quidditch jerseys and pair of joggers. He headed into the kitchen to prepare a pot of tea, since he was still wide awake, pondering over how well his date with the curly-headed witch had gone. He was pleased with himself, and chalked the date up to a plus one for him and hopefully putting him on the right path to finally woo her.

He filled the tea kettle with water at the sink and placed it on the range, then cast a silent _Silencio_ to prevent the whistling from waking Hermione up. He peeped around the corner to see that Hermione was still asleep, not missing the smile on her face even as she slept, snuggled securely under the throw. He re-focused on the task at hand, as the water had begun to boil. He lifted the kettle off the range and poured it over a waiting tea bag in the mug he had set out earlier.

A piercing scream tore through the room, resulting in Harry almost dropping his mug. He quickly plopped it down on the bench and dashed for the lounge, only to see Hermione sat straight up, terror written all over her face. "Noooo," she sobbed, still sound asleep. Tears tracked down her cheeks and dripped off her chin, her knuckles white as they gripped the blanket unawares.

Harry quickly darted around the coffee table and knelt beside the couch, lightly touching her forearm. "Hermione," he whispered soothingly, rubbing small circles on the top of her hand with his thumb. "Hermione," he called a bit louder. When she did not respond, he reached under her and pulled her tight against him, holding her snugly in his embrace. He felt helpless and unsure of what to do, so he just held her until she came around.

When Hermione realised she was in Harry's arms, a fresh wave of tears knocked her over, sobs echoing around the lounge. She felt Harry's lips faintly in her hair, whispering soothing things, unlike Ron did when she cried. He would tell her to 'suck it up, no one cares' and 'quit crying before I _really _give you something to cry about'. She clung to Harry tightly as he rubbed her back, head resting on top of hers.

"You're alright, love. You're safe," he murmured comfortingly.

Soon the sobs became sniffles, then the sniffles hiccups. When she finally felt composed enough to lift her head, her red-rimmed eyes looked up to him, his being full of worry and love for _his _witch.

"What happened, 'Mione?" he inquired in a gentle tone.

She hiccuped again, then drew a shaky breath. "Nightmares about the b-babies I've lost," she managed. Her response resulted in him hugging her even tighter against him, but she continued on. "It's awful. I can see their tiny bodies, but their faces are a blur to me now. Is that wrong?" she wondered aloud.

"No, 'Mione, it isn't," he responded calmly. "It just means you're healing, which takes time. You are so brave," he whispered against her ear. He wanted to kiss her there, but was hesitant to. As fate would seemingly deem it, her head turned at just the right moment, causing his lips to brush against the delicate outer shell of her ear. A delicious shiver ran down her spine, so he decided to take a chance and press a kiss under her ear, nibbling down the slender column of her neck to her clavicle, leaving searing kisses.

"H-Harry, please," she begged, eyes fluttering closed at his touch. Her fingers dug into his sides, trying to curb her whimpers but failing miserably.

He pressed fleeting kisses across her clavicle and up her throat, suckling gently under her jaw before pressing his lips to hers. The same magical aura enveloped them in the pale golden light, creating a buzz of electricity between them.

She reluctantly broke the kiss, resting her forehead against his shoulder, breathless. She peered up at him, wondering if he felt the same thing that she did; from the hungry gleam in his eye it was evident he felt it too.

"H-Harry...make love to me," she begged again, voice shaking with nerves. He pulled her back to look at him, unsureness on his face.

"'Mione, are you sure?" he asked haltingly. "I don't want to take advantage of your vulnerability or cause you to regret this lat-" His spiel was cut off by Hermione pressing her lips hungrily to his this time, all doubts gone from her mind.

"I'm sure, Harry. I trust you," she implored. "My feelings for you are so strong, and I know you won't intentionally hurt me. I also love you, which scares me but I feel safe with you all at the same time," she continued. He sat, unmoving, unsure of what to say.

"Harry, please say something…" she pleaded.

He cleared his throat, unsure of how to answer her. "I feel terrible taking advantage of you," he whispered, an unfamiliar gleam in his eye. He exhaled, trying to figure out what to say. He pressed his forehead to hers, the magic crackling between them.  
"Wow," she whispered, wide-eyed.

"I know," he murmured. "I think that was our magic connecting, 'Mione."

"Our magic?" she breathed. She had read all sorts of books about it, but there was nothing quite like feeling it for yourself, the magic weaving between two individuals on the precipice. Her body hummed to life for the first time in years, sending another shiver through it.

He swooped in, gently sucking her lower lip before kissing her slightly-swollen lips yet again. He held her firmly in his arms, decision made, and swiftly Apparated them to his bedroom.


	5. Chapter Four

**A/N: The following chapter contains SMUT and comes with a smoking keyboard warning. Prepare yourself. Typical warnings apply: Weasley bashing, mentions of abuse, mentions of miscarriage, and the dirtiest words of all - "Ron Weasley". Thank you again to Mrs. Ren for being my sounding board and fantabulous Alpha. All characters belong to J.K. Rowling and the Harry Potter universe. Any unfamiliar characters or spells are created by myself with the help of others. Enjoy this chapter and please review!**

Harry loosened his grip on her when they landed in his bedroom, but did not let go. He snapped his fingers and bedroom was bathed in warm candle-light.

Hermione looked at him, mesmerized, not knowing that he could do wandless, non-verbal magic. "Impressive Potter," she breathed. Her fingers tightened around his forearms, leaning into him. She immediately realised where they were and her cheeks began to heat up, shyness overcoming her brevity.

Harry placed a light kiss on her jaw, working his way down one side of her neck and up under her ear, eliciting quiet moans from her already slightly swollen lips. "I want to see you, Hermione," he whispered in her ear, lightly kissing the outer shell as he spoke. "You're beautiful, you know," he whispered again, finally relinquishing his hold on her.

At his words, she froze, becoming more timid with each passing moment. Time seemed to stand still as she was unable to fulfill his request, but at his gentle coaxing and words of love and praise, she finally stepped out of his hold and pulled the ratty Gryffindor shirt over her head, revealing a beautiful bra in deep purple, the cups trimmed in delicate white lace. Harry's mouth fell open, his eyes widening when her shirt hit the floor.

He shook himself and approached her slowly, caressing the sides of her breasts gently, long calloused fingers deftly stroking the supple skin there. He allowed his hands to drift down her ribcage on either side, rubbing soothing circles into the smooth skin.

Hermione inhaled sharply, her apprehensiveness beginning to subside, and allowed herself to relax under Harry's touch. _This was her best friend and the man she cared deeply for. She could trust him. He wasn't Ron. Ron rushed foreplay, rushed sex and only thought of himself._

"Do you trust me, love?" Harry looked into her eyes, searching her face.

She nodded and he lifted her into his arms again and crossed the room to the large bed, sitting her on the edge without jostling her. He knelt between her legs, pressing hot kisses in the valley of her breasts, trailing down her stomach, stopping where the waistband of her joggers began. Her sighs of pleasure were the only thing that broke the silence in the room, neither of them finding the need to speak at that moment. He looked at her, seeking permission to remove her joggers and she nodded, raising her hips for him to remove them. He pulled them down and off, revealing matching knickers trimmed in the same delicate lace as her bra.

"I—I wasn't planning for you to see it, but I saw this in Diagon Alley and I bought it and it made me feel..pretty.." she trailed off, staring down at the floor.

He exhaled hard, his arousal beginning to strain painfully against the zip of his trousers. He tossed the joggers on the floor with the shirt and watched as she turned inward on herself, suddenly shy again.

"Hey," he spoke softly, so as not to startle her. "You don't have to hide from me, you are so beautiful, Mia," he cajoled in worshipful tones. He rubbed his hands up her milky thighs, ears perking up when she breathed in sharply. He rose and slid his hands under her bum, moving her upward towards the headboard. His hands were on either side of her head, slender fingers splayed against the sheets. His knees settling on either side of her hips, Harry leaned down to press his lips down her jaw.

She shivered, enthralled by his touch, the same stirring deep in her belly awakening again. She looped her arms around his neck, pulling his head down near hers and kissed him passionately, her tongue tracing his bottom lip, causing the man above her to groan gutturally. She nipped at his lip, seeking entrance and he complied without thought, tangling his tongue to hers. Her nails slid down his muscled back, scratching it lightly as her knickers became damp quickly.

Unable to help himself, Harry rubbed his growing hardness against her knickers, growling softly. broke the kiss and spoke in a low, rough voice, "That's for you, 'Mione. I'm not trying to scare you but you are a stunning witch and I know it and I want to make you mine and treat you like a witch of your beauty should be treated," he breathed out.

Hermione mewled, jerkily pulling at his shirt to get it off him. "I want to feel you Harry, _please_," she begged. He sat up, stripping the shirt off and tossed it in the growing clothing pile and turned back to the witch, admiring the enticing view of her under him.

She licked her suddenly dry lips, eyes wide at the view before her. Quidditch had served him well, if the well-defined abs were any indication, along with his trim, yet muscular form. She reached up for him, sinking her fingers into his inky black hair, lightly scratching his scalp. His moans permeated the air and he ground out, "If you keep that up, I won't last long," he grunted as another growl ripped from his throat. He trailed his fingers down her knickers, pushing them aside and pushing a slender finger slowly into her wet heat, feeling her for the first time.

Hermione's hips bucked up in response, letting go of his hair and curling her fingers into the sheets, implicitly turned on just by his touch.

"Ohh Harry," she keened, squirming, unable to stop.

Harry did not rush her, allowing time to adjust before adding a second finger, gently rubbing her clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure through her body. Her experiences with Ron were never like this, which was not too shocking, considering that he didn't put her pleasure before his own.

"So close," she moaned. Harry eased his fingers in and out, leaning back to admire how beautiful she was, flushed cheeks and all. He raised his free hand to her bra, sliding it off without difficulty, tossing it on the floor. He swallowed hard before leaning forward to press fleeting kisses across the swell of her breasts, before circling to one of her taut nipples and sucking on it with the same gentleness. She squeaked in response, pressing herself harder against him.

"Ha_—_Harry please!" she begged, panting. Her body shuddered, close to bursting with pleasure.

He released her nipple with a slow pop and caressed her face, as if he knew what she was needing. "Come for me, sweet witch. I won't let you fall. I'm here."

Her hips jerked, and Hermione tightened around his fingers, squeezing them tightly as pleasure erupted within her, whimpering. She threw her head back against the pillows with a loud moan, almost screaming as her body shook from the orgasm. When it passed, she found her legs locked tightly around Harry's waist, him looking at her in awe.

"Merlin, that was _hot_, witch," he groaned.

She looked at him, blinking. "I didn't know it could feel like _that_," she admitted shyly. He slowly withdrew his fingers after untangling her legs and kissing her inner thighs slowly. Harry raised his hand to his mouth, taking each digit into his mouth and tasting her slowly from then without breaking eye contact.

"You are wearing way too many clothes, Mr Potter," she murmured cheekily, grinning at him.

He snapped his fingers in response, smirking at her, and suddenly they were both naked, their bodies humming with magic.

Harry's length pressed against her inner thigh but he stayed still.

"Harry, go slow,please…" she implored. He brushed her hair out of her eyes and used a silent spell to pin it into a soft bun, then pressed a light kiss on her forehead.

"Of course, sweet girl. Anything to help you feel more comfortable." He pried her legs wide, hooking one of her legs around his waist and brushed the tip of his cock against her already wet folds before slowly pushing inside, pausing halfway to allow her to adjust to his size.

"Okay?" he asked once he was still.

"Oh Harry," she breathed in sharply, eyes wide. Her eyes watered, but she pulled Harry close to her as he thrust inside further, slowly opening her up to him. She gripped his arms tightly to keep herself grounded and to remind herself that this was not Ron; this was Harry. Harry wouldn't hurt her.

He pulled out slowly, with a brief grunt, and then plunged back in with the same slowness, determined to last.

"Mia, you're so tight, love," he said through gritted teeth.

She pushed her hips up to his, matching him thrust for thrust as their magic entangled, along with their bodies. He reached up and smoothed his hand through her curls, whispering encouraging things in her ear. His hands were gentle and light, causing her eyes to water again. He stilled inside her and looked into her eyes, concerned.

"What's the matter? I'm not hurting you am I?" he looked at her, panicking slightly.

She shook her head, curls moving about. "No, it's just...Ron never touched me this way nor was he this gentle with me," she sniffled.

"Oh. I'm so sorry, Hermione," he whispered.

"Don't be, Harry," she easily replied, carding her fingers through his unruly hair, causing the man poised above her to purr. Seemingly encouraged by her actions, he began thrusting slowly in and out of her again, building a delicious friction inside her. A guttural moan escaped her lips, mind spinning. She lifted her hips again, grinding against him, becoming breathless.

"You feel so good, witch," Harry growled out, thrusting in deeply and swirling his hips. Hermione mewled, nails clawing down his back, caught in ecstasy.

"Getting close, my Mia?" he mused aloud.

"Yes," she panted.

He stretched his fingers, spreading her outer lips and began to caress her clit with nimble fingers. The gentle touch sent electricity shooting through her and in a fleeting moment, she was pulsing around him. The build up was slow as she writhed beneath him, calling out for him. When her orgasm came, stars shattered behind her eyes as Harry too fell with her, coming on a loud groan, his cock buried deep within her.

Satiated, he collapsed on her, and nuzzled his nose to her neck, kissing the tender spot under her ear. He felt wetness on his face and he pulled back to see tears streaming down her face.

"I'm heavy, aren't I?" he frowned, but she shook her head immediately.

"No it's not that, Harry. You feel good and it's a soothing feeling," she murmured.

He kissed them away, barely hearing the words she uttered. "I _really _didn't know it could feel like that," she mused more to herself than Harry. But he _did_ manage to hear them and he tightened his hold on her, cradling her as close as he could and turning them over so she was on top of him after he pulled out slowly. She yelped a little and he immediately cast a non-verbal _Lenire Dolorem _to soothe the ache between her thighs. She relaxed in his embrace, tracing lazy circles on his arm.

"How did you know that was what I needed?" she whispered, unable to believe he knew her so well. But this was _Harry_.

His chest rumbled with deep laughter and he replied, rubbing his hands soothingly across her lower back. "Mia, we've been friends for years. I can read you like an open book, _pun intended_."

When she didn't answer him, he glanced down to see that she was sound asleep in his arms, her face content and body lax. He summoned the plush throw and pulled it over both of them, sinking down into the bed and joining her in peaceful slumber.


	6. Chapter Five

**A/N: Thank you for sticking with me this far in the story. I hope you have enjoyed reading it as much as I have enjoyed writing. This is not the end. I promise. Another big thank you to Mrs Ren for keeping this ship afloat. Just a lot of teeth-rotting fluff this chapter. ;) Enjoy!**

Hermione roused slightly, her hands brushing against something hard as weak sunlight streamed through the curtained window near the bed. She opened one eye, realising she was staring at the defined plane of Harry's back, scratch marks littering it. She blushed deeply as images from last night flitted through her mind as a yawn left her mouth. She stretched, wincing slightly at the soreness in her muscles that she didn't know even existed. It was worth it, though. Harry had been so gentle with her and had made her feel like a _real _woman. She glanced at the muggle clock on the chest of drawers on the far wall and realised it was nearly 9 A.M. _Merlin! I never sleep in this late, _she thought. She couldn't remember the last time she had slept so well; when she and Ron had married the lie-ins stopped after the first month. She was content and felt safe in Harry's presence, so she wrapped her arms around his middle, curling herself around him and closed her eyes as a contented sigh left her lips.

As Harry woke, he felt warmth behind him and a pair of feminine arms wrapped snugly around his waist. He smiled at the memory of their heady love-making last night as he slowly turned on his back, bringing Hermione closer to him. He exhaled as he ran his fingers lightly down Hermione's arm, relaxed. He was dozing off again when a faint pop caused his eyes to open quickly, peering down to where the noise came , his house elf was standing at the foot of the bed. Her ears were flapping madly and her eyes were wide as saucers, almost as if she were petrified.

"P-Pardon me, Master Harry," she sputtered quietly, trembling a little.

Harry sat up, disentangling himself from Hermione carefully so as not to wake her. He motioned for the elf to come closer as he scooted to sit on the side of the bed. "Bluebell, what have I said about calling me 'Master'?" he asked in a low tone, gazing down at her with a soft yet stern look.

The little elf stared down at the floor. "N-Not to," she replied timidly.

"That's right, Blue," Harry assured in the same quiet tone, mouth twitching as he continued. "You're family, Bluebell. I know this is not what you are accustomed to, but Hermione would have my head if I treated you less than," he smirked while motioning to the still sleeping witch.

"Now, would you please prepare and bring a full English breakfast?" he inquired. "We are slightly famished after last night."

"Right away sir!" the elf squeaked, snapping her fingers and disappearing with a _pop!_

Harry turned and scooted back onto the bed, moving his pillows until he was comfortable against the headboard as he watched Hermione sleeping, a content smile on her face. Warmth bloomed in his chest, evoked by the petite witch who had taken up space not only in his bed, but even more so in his heart. He stretched out his fingers, tracing light patterns up and down her arm until she woke.

When she opened her eyes again, a lazy smile stretched across her face. "Hi," she murmured sleepily, stretching her arms out and up.

"Hi, sleepy head," Harry smiled down at her. He leaned down and brushed his lips to her forehead, eliciting another smile from her.

"Thank you for last night," she acknowledged. "I had a bit of a struggle because as I said last night, I was not used to being treated so gently by anyone, but you were amazing Harry," she admitted as she gazed up at his piercing emerald eyes.

Before the pair could do anything further, Bluebell reappeared, startling Hermione a little. As the elf busied herself getting a small table ready, Harry managed to sneak a quick kiss and helped her out of bed but not before making sure they were both decent. The elf disappeared when she was finished, but not before snapping her little fingers to clean the room and send their clothing to the proper places. Harry took Hermione by the hand and led her to the table situated underneath the large window, then pulled her chair out for her. He kissed the top of her head before taking his own seat, tucking in as soon as he sat down. He stopped long enough to look at her from across the table, warmth rolling down to his toes at how beautiful she was, even with her curls wild and free.

She noticed his stare and raised her eyebrows at him. "See something you like, Mr. Potter?" she queried, sticking her tongue out at him cheekily. He choked a little but was righted quickly, nodding in response.

"I see a beautiful witch seated across from me whom I hope I can do more things like this with," he acknowledged, then smiled at her.

She blushed at the compliment, ducking her head a little. "Really?" she asked quietly.

"Yes, really, woman. As I have told you before, a man would have to be a blind Niffler to not notice you," he returned easily as he lowered his fork to his now empty plate, noticing that she too had done the same thing.

She blushed prettily but smiled at him gratefully. "Thank you Harry," she confessed.

"Now, I believe a shower is in order before we go out, don't you think, Miss Granger?" he ventured, smirking.

Her mouth went dry, but he didn't have to tell her twice. She scooted her chair back and stood quickly, making her way to the bathroom with him hot on her heels.

It took several tries for the pair to leave Harry's flat but the fourth time was a charm. They arrived in Diagon Alley while it was still early, both of them thankful because neither felt like dealing with nosey witches at this hour.

Hermione looped her hand through his arm and he pressed her to his side, strolling easily to Gringotts Bank. He held the door open for her as they stepped inside the cavernous building. It had taken many promises and several donations for the pair to regain the trust of the goblins, but now they were both highly respected.

They approached the high bench where a golden plaque read _Kratnuz_.

"Good morning Kratnuz," Harry greeted politely.

"May your enemies always fall at your feet," Hermione added.

"May your gold never run out," the goblin returned. "How may I help you today, Mr Potter and Miss Granger?" he inquired, staring down at them over a pair of wire rim glasses.

"I am here to purchase a building and turn it into a book-shop," the wizard answered.

"Very well," the goblin said. "Go to the second floor. Krehord will be expecting you."

Harry and Hermione bowed slightly and made their way as directed.

Harry knocked sharply at the correct door and a gravelly voice called out: "Enter!" He kept Hermione's hand firmly in his as they entered.

"Good morning Krehord. May your coffers never be empty," Harry acknowledged.

"May the blood of your enemies soak the ground you walk on!" the goblin returned with a grin. "Please have a seat, Mr Potter and Miss Granger," he stated, conjuring a pair of plush armchairs across from his desk. The pair sat down, Hermione chewing on her lip as was her habit when she was nervous.

"How may I help you today?" the goblin leaned forward, listening intently to Harry's request.

"Miss Granger would like to open a bookshop and has agreed to let me be a silent partner and purchase the building that will be used. I need to arrange the funds for that as well as looking at available properties, sir," the wizard stated.

"Very well, Mr Potter. There are several properties available that will be ideal for her shop," the goblin replied. He snapped his fingers and several large pictures hovered above the desk between he and the witch and wizard. "The first one is in Horizont Alley and was recently vacated. It is spacious, but doesn't attract much business anymore. The second one is in Diagon Alley and is also recently vacated. It formerly housed Flourish and Blotts. The inventory is still there and also boasts a flat above the shop. The third—"

"Sir, if I may," Hermione interjected a grin on her face.

The goblin smiled at her knowingly. "Yes, Miss Granger?"

"I would like to personally see Flourish and Blotts, if you please," she said.

"Very well. I have a key here. Go and look at it; if you are satisfied, return here and we will begin processing the paperwork."

The pair rose from their seats, bowing slightly. Harry took the proffered key from the goblin's outstretched hand and exited with Hermione. They exited out of the bank and hurried down the street to the building that once housed the well-known bookshop.

"Ready?" He peered down at Hermione, smiling.

"So ready!" She beamed.

Harry inserted the key into the designated lock and allowed the door to swing open. Immediately a cloud of dust engulfed them, causing coughing. Harry muttered a wandless _Scourgify _and the dust disappeared. They stepped further into the shop and closed the door.

Hermione let out an unnatural happy squeak and murmured, "_Lumos," _to light the shop as she took in the state of disarray it was in.

"Merlin! Harry, this is going to take so much work, but it will be so worth it," she gushed happily. She turned back to him and engulfed him in a tight hug, grateful that he wanted to help her.

"I am really glad you are allowing me to help, stubborn witch," he murmured in her hair, passing his hand down her spine in a gesture of affection.

Hermione pulled out of his embrace to explore the shop, well aware of Harry's gaze falling on her arse. She suspected that he was lost in thought when she yelled at him from upstairs.

"Harry you have _got _to see this!" she yelled.

He followed the sound of her voice up a flight of stairs near the back of the shop. When he made it to the top, Hermione jumped out from the shadows.

"Boo!"she exclaimed.

Harry shrieked like a girl, hand to his chest. "Merlin, witch! What was that for?"

Hermione couldn't hear his complaints over her laughter. It took her several moments to regain her breath, tears of mirth running down her face.

"That was completely worth it," she snickered.

Harry smacked her arse sharply. "What did you want to show me? Other than a heart attack?" he groused.

Hermione pouted, rubbing where he hit her and led him through the door to the flat attached to the shop above. She murmured another "_Lumos," _and suddenly the room was bathed in warm light. It was a decent sized space, but bare. It needed cosmetic repairs, but was in good shape otherwise. It was an open floor plan so the kitchen was separated only by a doorway from the main room. They ventured into the other rooms which consisted of two bedrooms, one bath, an office, and a balcony attached to the master bedroom.

"I think this is it, Harry. It's perfect," she looked back at him, beaming.

"Alright then, we'll go back to Gringotts and finish the paperwork."

They filed down the stairs after extinguishing the lights and made their way to the front of the shop, doing the same and locking the door as they exited.

They hastened to Gringotts, Hermione practically dragging him, eager to get the papers signed and start on her new adventure as a bookshop owner. . They entered the building once more, where Krehord were awaiting them.

"I see you were satisfied?" he inquired.

Hermione nodded eagerly, unable to wipe the smile from her face.

"Excellent! Follow me if you please," the goblin instructed. They soon reached his office and were ushered to she same chairs. Krehord snapped his fingers and the appropriate paperwork appeared on his desk.

"I took the liberty of procuring the funds from your vault, Mr Potter. I hope that is satisfactory," the goblin said.

"Yes, Krehord. That will be fine,"Harry agreed, leaning forward to sign the papers in the appropriate places then leaned back, allowing Hermione to do the same, a smile of satisfaction on both their faces.

"Everything is in order, Mr Potter and Miss Granger. Congratulations," the goblin appraised. He tapped the papers with a sharp finger and instantly two more copies appeared and rolled themselves tightly, a copy each going to Hermione and Harry.

"Thank you for your help, Krehord," Hermione replied gratefully. She rose from her seat, followed by Harry and they bowed again slightly before exiting.

Weeks passed quickly and before she knew it, Hermione was preparing for the grand re-opening of Flourish and Blotts. Her stomach churned with nerves and excitement, but Harry had been a staunch supporter. He spent many late nights with her at the shop; cleaning, re-organising, stocking new books, even going as far as to help her transform the flat above the shop into a decent place to live.

Over dinner the night before the opening, she looked at him as they were seated at the dinner table, sharing a taco pizza, something Harry had introduced her to after a trip to the States for a joint task force with MACUSA.

She cleared her throat before speaking, starting slow at first. "Harry, I just...wanted to say thank you for these last six months," she stated, looking down at the table. "You've been a wonderful friend and you've really proven you're not like Ronald at all and for that I'm grateful. I'm even more grateful that you've helped me get this shop off the ground, but I'm put off that you wouldn't at least let me pay for some of it," she grumbled playfully.

Harry flashed a grin at her, swallowing the bite of pizza in his mouth. "You, Hermione Granger, are a stubborn witch," he retorted cheekily.

That comment earned an olive being flicked at him, smacking him on the nose.

"Hey!" he groused, causing Hermione to laugh. "I'm serious. I told you I'd take care of everything and I meant it. You are my _best friend_ and I'd do _anything _for you. I love you, 'Mione," he said as he reached across the table and took her hand, giving it a soft squeeze.

Hermione frowned at the nickname slightly, reminiscing, because that is what her parents used to call her.

"You okay, love?" Harry looked at her concernedly.

Hermione sighed, her shoulders slipping as she did so. "I'm...I'm alright, Harry. Just a little sense of nostalgia about that nickname. That's what my parents called me for years. Normally I don't like that nickname, but since it's you, I'll allow it," she surmised, giving him a small smile. "_Only _because it's you though," she stuck her tongue out at him.

"Okay, cheeky, we should get some shut-eye. Tomorrow is going to be a big day and we both know it," Harry mused. He picked up his wand and silently flicked it, clearing the table and sending the trash to the bin beside the bench.

Hermione nodded in agreement and rose from the table and headed for Harry's bedroom. It had become a habit for them to share a bed over the last few weeks. She slept better and figured he did as well. She shucked her clothes off and threw them in the hamper and put her pyjamas on before climbing under the duvet, quickly falling asleep. She didn't even notice when Harry climbed in on the other side, pulling her against his solid chest. He hummed in contentment before falling asleep too.


	7. Chapter Six

**A/N: This was a tough chapter for me to write, but I hope it will shed some light on many things. Again, thank you to MrsRen for being my awesome Alpha/Beta. WARNING: This chapter contains mentions of abuse and miscarriage. You have been forewarned. Carry on.** **Edited for continuity errors.**

The re-opening of Flourish and Blotts had been a rousing success, if how busy Hermione had been for the last month was any indication. It wasn't unusual for her to arrive home at almost ten each night, but Harry always had dinner waiting for her. Their friendship had blossomed into something more, but neither were quite sure what it was yet. When Hermione finally had a day where she could breathe, she took the opportunity to owl Pansy and ask to meet for lunch in Diagon Alley the next Saturday at the same café they had met months earlier.

Saturday proved to be sunny for once, and Hermione was thrilled. Living in London had its perks, but as long as she had lived in London, she still despised so much gloomy weather. She was looking forward to meeting with Pansy. She dressed quickly and hastily dropped a kiss on Harry's cheek before Apparating to the café.

"Witch! You're late!" Pansy sneered playfully.

"Merlin, Pansy, Draco really _is _rubbing off on you," Hermione crowed as she joined her at a secluded table near the back of the café.

Pansy blushed furiously, but didn't contradict the statement. They ordered their usual scones and tea, but Hermione added a few sandwiches to her order.

"You must be hungry, Granger," Pansy smirked.

"Well, I've been knackered with the book-shop and haven't had much time to eat. But Harry has been so sweet. He's had dinner waiting for me each night, and on some longer nights, even a bath drawn for me. He's spoiling me rotten, Pans," she admitted shyly, cheeks tinged pink.

"Well good! You deserve it after all the bullshite you've had to deal with. Harry's a great wizard with an even greater arse," she teased, waggling her eyebrows.

"Oh, sweet Circe, Pansy Malfoy," Hermione groaned, shaking her head.

"Hey, just because I'm married doesn't mean I can't appreciate a piece of fine male anatomy, secondary to my husband's," she defended.

Their order arrived shortly thereafter and each witch tore into their food, light chatter breaking the occasional silence. Once finished, Pansy eyed her up and down carefully.

"You're looking well, Hermione. Truly. Whatever Harry is doing for you, keep letting him. You need it, and him, I think," she observed.

Hermione blushed again, but smiled warmly at the witch across from her. "Thank you, Pansy. That means so much," she said. ""I didn't think it was possible for me to be happy again, especially in such a short time. Honestly, I could see myself with him ten years down the road, but I'm also terrified at the same time that R..Ron… will always plague me and try to ruin any happiness I work for," she sighed, mumbling the last bit.

Pansy reached across and placed a hand on the other witch's hand lightly. "I have no doubt that Harry would protect you from that red-headed Weasel," she stated firmly.

Hermione smiled gratefully at the dark haired witch.

"Thank you, Pans," she whispered, squeezing her hand.

Hermione arrived home before Harry that evening. She kicked her trainers off at the spot by the door designated for shoes, stretching her arms over her head as she peered around the open space. Harry was nowhere to be seen, which was out of the norm. Even with the unpredictable career as an Auror, he always seemed to be home in time to meet her.

She was surprised by how much she didn't like it. She tried to push it to the back of her mind, but a niggling feeling clung tightly as she made her way to change into something more comfortable. Once changed, she padded back into the lounge.

"Hermione!" Harry bellowed as he kicked his boots off noisily. It didn't sound like Harry. It sounded like _him_ and her heartbeat was loud in her ears before she could talk herself down.

Peeking around the door, her fingers turning a stark white against the trim, Hermione saw his face flushed with anger. Had she done something? She bit the inside of her cheek hard, hard enough to draw blood.

A weak noise left her and she took two quick steps backward. _Get away, get away,_ she thought frantically. Hermione thought to lock the door, pushing it closed with a loud thud and turning the lock into place. Hiding in the far corner of the bedroom, Hermione slid down the wall, bringing her knees to her chest.

Her fingers trembled, and she had little doubt her face was completely drained of colour. When heavy footfalls neared the room, Hermione burst into tears.

"Hermione," Harry called softly, and she assumed he had heard her outburst. "Hermione, it's just me. I'm sorry I yelled," he cajoled. "I'm not angry with you, love. I had a bad day at the Ministry," he trailed off, placing his hand on the door and silently unlocking it.

He allowed it to open slowly, slowly crossing the threshold, eyes searching for her.

Only her whimpers alerted him to her location in the dark bedroom.

"Please don't hurt me," she pleaded, trying to scoot further into the wall, but found herself as far back as she could go. _Trapped, trapped, _her mind screamed.

"Darling, it's Harry," his deep baritone broke through the darkness. "It's alright," he murmured, finally finding her and kneeling down in front of her. He lightly touched her foot, making her flinch and whimper in fear. Pain crossed his features, hating that the witch was afraid of him.

"_Damn you, Ron,"_ Harry growled, his voice so low that she barely caught it.

He kept his touch light, slowly working up to caress her face. On the final try, she didn't flinch so he took a chance, pulling her into his arms.

She recognised his scent, collapsing against him the moment he had a firm hold on her. He stretched out on the floor with her held firmly against him, letting her cry.

"You're safe, 'Mione. I'm here. I'm sorry I scared you. I'm so sorry," he whispered, rubbing her back slowly. She hiccuped a few times, sobs eventually quieting.

"Merlin, I didn't realise how affected you still were, love. I'm so sorry," he said quietly. "You can still do something though, Hermione," he stated as he sat up, pulling her with him and settling against the side of the bed frame.

"What-What can I do?" she asked, sniffling as she clutched his shirt tightly.

Harry held her close, passing his hand up and down her spine. "Can I ask you something?" he murmured.

"Su-Sure, Harry," she sniffled.

"Do you want him to be punished for how he's hurt you?"

A silence followed his question, broken only by her quiet sniffles, but then she nodded against him.

"Okay then. File charges against him. Go before the Wizengamot. Get Pansy, Draco, me, even some of the other medi-witches to testify," he stated firmly.

"Alright," she whispered, nuzzling his cheek. "Thank you, Harry. I mean that," she whispered again.

"Anything for you, 'Mione. I _mean _that," he said, rubbing her back.

Hermione held her head high as she exited the Ministry floo the next morning and made her way toward the lifts. She was prepared, for Harry had stayed up late with her the previous night to make sure the paperwork was in order. She quickly strode across the floor, ignoring the whispers and stares and entered the lift, shortly followed by one Luna Lovegood.

"Hello Hermione," the tow-headed witch greeted dreamily. Hermione nodded at her, a bit aghast that someone would even take the time to speak to her.

"H-Hello Luna," she replied nervously.

"The wrackspurts are out in full force today, Hermione. Here, this cork necklace should help," Luna said as she handed over a necklace.

The brunette witch took it and looped it around her neck, tucking it inside her blouse for safe keeping. "Thank you, Luna. Truly," she said

"You're quite welcome. I'm also sorry about Ron and the babies. If you're in need of someone to talk to, I am always willing to listen," she smiled as the lift dinged and she got off.

Hermione was left with her thoughts until she reached the second level and the lift opened to reveal Harry's smiling face.

"Hi 'Mione," he greeted gently, pressing a kiss to her temple. "I promised I'd be here when you filed and I intend to keep good on my promises."

At his words, she exhaled in relief and allowed him to guide her to Gawain Robards' office, Head Auror.

"Everything looks to be in order," Robards stated as he closed the thick file in the center of his desk. He removed the half-moon spectacles and folded them, tucking them in his pocket.

Hermione glanced at Harry nervously, but he just squeezed her hand wordlessly.

"Miss Granger, I am terribly sorry this has happened to you. Thankfully, the Wizengamot has adjusted their system as to how they try domestic abuse cases and please let me personally assure you that Mr Weasley will be tried properly. If this had been ten years ago, you would have been the one thrown in Azkaban and he'd have been the one hailed a hero," the gray haired man groused.

The witch nodded, eyes wide at his spiel. "Th...thank you, Mr Robards," she managed.

"The hearing will take place a week from tomorrow, if that's alright with you, Miss Granger?" he inquired carefully. "A solicitor is not necessary but if you feel more at ease with one, then you may bring one."

Hermione nodded at him, still in a daze from the day's proceedings.

"Thank you, Robards," Harry said, helping Hermione stand a few moments later.

"It was nothing, Potter," the older wizard said gruffly, stretching his hand to shake Harry's outstretched one.

Harry then guided the dazed witch out of the office and to the lifts. The moment they left, Robards called Malfoy into his office, giving him strict orders to apprehend Ronald Weasley and lock him in a holding cell until the hearing.

Hermione grasped Harry's hand tightly and kept her arm looped through Luna's, who had been wonderfully supportive since they reconnected, as they made their way to the designated courtroom next Thursday. She was a ball of nerves and had even thrown up earlier that morning. As they approached the courtroom, Draco and Pansy, Neville, and Susan Bones, along with a few other Healers from St Mungos stood in a loose circle beside a large pillar, waiting for her near the doors. Pansy strode over and engulfed her in a tight hug, followed by more hugs from the Healers and finally Susan.

Before they entered, Hermione looked back at the posse trailing behind her, giving them tight smiles. Harry kissed the top of her head, whispering in her ear words of encouragement as he led her into the room. Harry's parents were already inside, giving Hermione encouraging smiles from their reserved seats behind the defense table.

Hermione nervously smiled back at them before taking her place at the table beside her no-nonsense solicitor, Elisabeth Fletcher. Harry had hired her, insisting upon a decent one and refused to let her pay for any of it. Pansy, Draco, and the rest of her acquaintances filed in, taking their seats behind James and Lily just before the proceedings began.

"Everyone please rise," the security wizard called out, his loud voice booming across the room.

Everyone in the room stood as Ron was brought in, magically bound by two burly Aurors. The scowl on his face deepened when he saw Harry standing beside Hermione, but the witch was not looking at him, instead choosing to focus elsewhere, before the fear gripping her throat choked her. The people remained standing as the members of the Wizengamot filed in, all six of them. Since it was a lower-court hearing, only six were required to be present. Once they were seated, the security wizard motioned for everyone to be seated and the proceedings begin.

The Head of the Wizengamot looked across the bar at Hermione with a warm smile as he motioned for her to approach. She stood on shaky legs but strode confidently across the floor and was directed to a seat on the side of the bar. He turned to her and begin asking the questions.  
"Miss Granger, thank you for being brave enough to testify and bring an end to this," the man spoke warmly. "How many times per month did Mister Weasley abuse you?" he asked, peering at her.

"Depending on his mood, it may have been as few as three or as many as twelve," she answered in a clear voice.

Murmurs and quiet gasps of horror filled the silent room, causing the security wizard to issue a one minute _Silencio _on those in the gallery.

She looked across the gallery, noting for the first time that the Weasley family were seated behind where Ron was bound in a chair, Molly and Ginny fixing her with nasty stares while Arthur's face was one of sympathy. The twins seemed indifferent, but they weren't giving her looks of hatred, thankfully. The Head Wizengamot's next question snapped her out of her thoughts.  
"How many babies did you lose as a result of his abuse, Miss Granger? I know this is a difficult question to answer but I assure you it's for a good reason," he stated.

"Th-three, sir," she stammered, dread and angst rising in her chest. She hurriedly fixed her gaze on Harry who gave her a comforting nod which enabled her to keep going.

"I lost three babies, and in the end, it was I who was blamed and as a result, he divorced me due to the marriage contract that had been drawn up before we were married," she concluded, a surge of confidence rushing through her. When finished, she looked up at the other five members of the Wizengamot, seeing a mix of sympathetic looks and frowns, each one busily scratching out notes.

"Thank you, Miss Granger, you may return to your seat," the elder Wizard said kindly. She nodded, following his directions and returned to her seat.

The next two hours of testimonies flew by in a blur and soon they were calling a recess for the midday meal.

As before, those in the gallery stood as the members of the Wizengamot exited and Ron was escorted back to the holding cell, the scowl never leaving his face. Elisabeth ushered Harry and Hermione into a meeting room just off the court where a long table flanked by matching chairs were situated in the middle of the room, laden with sandwiches and bottles of butterbeer and bags of crisps. The group of staunch Hermione supporters soon filed in and everyone helped themselves to the food that had been brought in for lunch.

Pansy approached Hermione, a warm smile on her face. "It's going well, I think," she said to the brunette witch.

"It is, but I hate having to rehash this," Hermione said miserably. As she said that, Harry came up beside her and wrapped his arms around her tightly.

"Thank you, Pansy, for testifying on my Hermione's behalf," he said, rubbing his hand down Hermione's back to calm her nerves. "This is just the beginning, I'm afraid," he murmured.

The proceedings picked up again after lunch, this time Harry being called to answer questions.

"Good afternoon, Mister Potter," the elder Wizengamot said as the raven-haired wizard took the designated seat.

"Good afternoon, sir," he replied.

"How did you come to Miss Granger's aid?" he asked.

Harry straightened in the seat as he began retelling the events of the last several months.

"Hermione knocked on my door approximately seven months ago, and I took her in because she was homeless. The law that they were married under stated she must bear him a child or he had the right to divorce her and that is what happened. He had abused her which I was not aware of because he prevented me from having any form of contact with her. In fact, the last time I saw her or spoke to her was approximately six months after their wedding. When she entered my flat, I could see that she was emaciated and had dark circles under her eyes, presumably from lack of sleep. She carried every worldly possession in her bag. It took months for her to finally tell me what happened and I must admit when she finally admitted what happened, I was furious," he growled, shifting in his chair.

Wizen Boyle cleared his throat as Harry finished his testimony. "Thank you, that will be all. You may return to your seat."

Harry stepped down, Hermione watching as he shot an angry look at the female Weasleys, then at Ron.

Hermione's leg bounced nervously as she awaited the Wizengamot members to finish deliberating. Harry noticed and reached over, grasping her hand and kissing her knuckles.

After what seemed an eternity, Wizen Boyle cleared his throat and peered over his glasses at Ron, who was still magically bound in the chair.

"Ronald Weasley, rise," he boomed. The red-head followed his command, shuffling his feet unsteadily.

A ruffling of papers was heard, then Boyle cleared his throat.

"For the crimes of spousal abuse against Hermione Jean Granger, you are hereby sentenced to five years in Azkaban. In addition to this, you are to serve one hundred hours of community service once released from Azkaban."

An indignant huff came from Molly, and Boyle glared over at her, daring her to say anything, then continued.

"Furthermore you are forbidden from approaching Miss Granger in any manner." He paused, glancing up at the Weasley family, seeing the scowling faces of the female Weasleys. "This includes, but is not limited to contact through the extension of your family, Mister Weasley.

If you violate any of these terms you will be permanently sentenced to Azkaban, or have your wand snapped and your magic revoked."

A loud gong chimed, signalling the end of the hearing. Everyone stood to allow the Wizengamot members to exit, followed by Weasley being escorted out, causing Hermione and everyone on the defense team to sigh in relief. It was _finally _over.


	8. Chapter Seven

**A/N: This chapter was difficult to write but it turned out so well. Thank you again to MrsRen for being my Alpha and keeping me accountable. Warning: Mentions of smut. Enjoy! **

Two months later, Hermione _knew _something was off as she hovered over the toilet, bleary-eyed. She had originally chalked it up to stress from dealing with Ron but even after things had settled, the nausea still continued. But at five-thirty in the morning, she didn't quite think it was just stress related anymore. She finally wiped her mouth and performed a breath-freshening charm before flushing. She washed her hands and exited the loo, almost tripping over a lump on the floor. She let out a shriek, drawing her wand as she caught herself on the door frame.

"Hermione, it's just me!" Harry protested, getting up quickly. "I heard you getting sick and I wanted to make sure you were alright," he soothed, pressing the back of his hand to her forehead. Satisfied that she didn't have a fever, he withdrew his hand. "Do you want an anti-nausea potion?" he asked quietly.

"I'm alright, Harry. I just ate something bad during lunch today," she murmured. She looked at him, seeing the concern on his face and relented. "Okay, Harry, I'll take one. Maybe it will help me sleep too," she acquiesced.

He beamed at her and led her back to his bedroom, making sure she was settled in the large bed and went to the kitchen to fetch the potion. He retrieved a juice box, another thing he'd become fond of while on a mission in the States. When he re-entered the bedroom, he noticed she was sound asleep, a small smile on her face.

Hermione was seated behind the counter in her bookshop later that morning reading the business section of the Prophet, per usual. When she was finished, she picked up the front page and immediately let out an angry yell, scowling all the while. Blazoned on the front was:

_**War Heroine Uses Boy-Who-Lived to Get Justice!**_

_**by Rita Skeeter **_

"It seems as though Miss Hermione Granger, well-known war heroine and part of the Golden Trio, had ulterior motives to get justice against Mister Ronald Weasley. You heard it here, fellow witches and wizards. Hermione Granger USED Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived and recipient of the Order of Merlin, First Class, for her own gains. Mister Weasley was unjustly persecuted, by six members of the Wizengamot no less, for crimes that he was innocent of. My loyal readers, I promise you to get to the bottom of this…"

Hermione threw the paper angrily, smacking someone in the face as she let out a shriek.  
"Ouch! Good lord, Granger. I knew you were a violent witch in school, but I thought you'd outgrown it," Draco drawled, smirking.

The witch rolled her eyes, but not before shooting him a glare that would knock a full grown Hippogriff over.

The blond man raised his hands in a gesture of peace. "Easy, Granger. I mean no harm, just the usual banter. I apologise if I upset you," he murmured.

"I'm not upset with you! I'm upset that Rita Skeeter is _still _publishing absolute fucking rubbish!" she bellowed.

"O...kay then, I'll just be...somewhere else," he stated, turning on his heel.

Hermione exhaled, shoulders slumping, as he made a hasty exit.

She arrived home later that night, exhausted. The exhaustion faded somewhat as she noticed the lounge dimly lit, bathed in the warm glow of candles perched on various surfaces. She let her purse drop on the couch after kicking her trainers off by the door.

"Harry?" she called out.

"In here, 'Mione," she heard him call back in that deep baritone that made her shiver in delight.

She followed the sound of his voice, to the kitchen where the table was laid nicely and Harry stood at her spot, grinning. His hands were behind his back, as if he held something.

"What are you up to, Harry James?" she teased.

He merely smirked in response, mocking her a bit by showing her his empty hands.

"Harry," she chided, trying to keep a straight face.

"Just kidding, 'Mione," he bit back playfully. He returned his hands behind his back, snapping his fingers quietly and then pulled his hands around again, this time bearing a fragrant bouquet of bird of paradise, white gardenias, purple irises, red tulips, and sprigs of lavender all tied with a beautiful emerald green ribbon, the same colour of the bearer's eyes.

Her eyes widened as they took in the assortment of flowers. "Oh Harry, they're beautiful," she breathed.

"All for you, my favourite lady," he replied. He crossed to where she was and planted a kiss on her cheek then handed her the flowers.

"What is this for?" she asked, puzzled.

"Just because I could, and wanted to," he stated rather cheekily.

She blushed at his words and wordlessly conjured a crystal vase with her wand in hand, then murmured _Aguamenti_, filling the vase with water. She placed the vase carefully in the middle of the table and dropped the bouquet in, watching in amazement as they arranged themselves artfully.

"You didn't know they would do that, Hermione?" Harry inquired.

She shook her head slightly. "I didn't get flowers often enough to warrant arranging them in a vase. Even when I did, they usually ended up scattered on the floor after R...Ron would hit me," she exhaled.

Harry grimaced at her words, silently vowing he would _never _mistreat this witch in any shape, form, or fashion. "You know that I'll never...that I'll never do that to you, don't you?" he implored.

Bluebell appeared about that time, slightly startling the couple.

"Bluebell is sorry Mister Harry and his Hermy, but dinner be being ready," she squeaked.

"Thank you Bluebell," Harry said, grinning mildly at Bluebell's nickname for Hermione.

The little elf snapped her fingers and the table was laden with a variety of dishes, including Harry's favourite, treacle tart.

Before Harry could even pull Hermione's chair out for her, she became slightly green around the mouth and darted for the bathroom, hand clamped over the offending thing to prevent her from throwing up then and there.

When Hermione came back into the room, she noticed his leg bouncing up and down nervously, so she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder to calm him.

"Are you alright?" he inquired, the jiggling stopping the moment she touched him.

She nodded as she sat down, seeming to be looking for something and he noticed her face relax when she found it to be gone. He had instructed Bluebell to whisk away the entire table of food while Hermione was occupied and to wait for his call to bring out something more bland.

Hermione picked up the goblet of water before her and took a sip to clear the rancid taste that lingered on her tongue.

"It was just something I had at lunch, or a stomach flu," She soothed. "I'm fine, Harry, really."

He quirked an eyebrow at her, but seemed to believe her and relaxed in his chair.

"Bluebell, bring the new food please," he called out. The elf appeared momentarily, snapping her fingers and a new round of food settled on the table. Roast chicken, mash, crusty dinner rolls, and a light salad completed the menu, followed by a fresh jug of ice water.

"Thank you, Bluebell, you are dismissed." Harry stated, as the little elf bowed and disappeared. He picked up his napkin again and settled it into his lap, pausing as he watched Hermione take small bites of her food.

"Thank you, Harry," she murmured, the colour beginning to return to her face.

Soon their plates were cleared and Harry escorted her to the lounge, flicking his wand along the way to bathe the room in warm candlelight. He flicked his wand again and soft strains of "The Way You Look Tonight" wafted from the record player in the corner that Harry had inherited from Sirius after his death.

"Care to dance?" He asked, stretching his hand out for hers. She nodded, a smile lighting up her face as she stepped into his waiting arms. He slowly danced her around the now cleared room, enjoying the closeness and smiled as he felt her relax into his arms. The relaxation didn't last long because she pulled carefully out of his arms, again running for the bathroom.

Harry dropped down on the sofa after he restored the lounge to normal with a quick wave of his wand, muttering_locus autem revertetur ad normalis_. He noticed the Daily Prophet sticking out haphazardly beneath the post that had been stacked neatly on top of it. He pulled it out, the headline _**War Heroine Uses Boy-Who-Lived to Get Justice! **_glaring at him. He groaned but glanced over the article anyway, quickly tossing the paper down in mild disgust.

"I was hoping you wouldn't see that." Hermione stated as she walked back into the room, her face flushed in embarrassment. She perched on the arm of the sofa near Harry.

"I...got upset when I saw it this morning and actually threw the paper and it ended up smacking Draco in the face," She snorted, and Harry bit his lip.

"I would have given _anything _to see that." He chuckled.

"It's funny now, but I genuinely was rude to him. I feel a bit embarrassed that he saw my outburst," she groaned.

Harry squeezed her knee comfortingly. "Hermione, love, that article is rubbish. You and I both know it. Skeeter is grasping at straws for any bit of publicity," he growled quietly.

"I know, Harry, but I do need to apologise to Draco. He did nothing wrong," she stated.

He let out another quiet snort, stretching his arms out and pulling her down in his lap in one fluid motion.

"What?" she groused playfully, slapping his chest lightly.

"Nothing," he grinned down at her cheekily. "I didn't think I'd ever see the day where Hermione Jean would _willingly _apologise to the Ferret!" he stated amusedly.

"Harry James!" she admonished, biting back a grin. She pushed up off his lap and pecked his cheek. "I'm off to bed; tomorrow is a long day and I'm knackered." she said.  
"Goodnight, 'Mione," he replied and stood up behind her, wrapping his arms firmly around her waist and kissing the sensitive spot along her neck.

"Harry, don't start something you won't finish," she moaned out, squirming in his grasp.

"Witch, you're playing with fire," he growled in her ear, nipping at her earlobe.

She managed to wriggle out of his grip, grinning at him cheekily and trotted off to her bedroom, where she firmly closed the door, warding it to prevent the sneaky wizard from ambushing her.

Harry groaned loudly, causing Hermione to open her door and peek out. She saw him tugging his trousers down quickly and giggled as she heard a frustrated growl leaving his lips. Her eyes widened when she realised what was about to happen and quickly shut her door, cheeks aflame. They may have had sex, but watching him do _that _was a different story.

Harry must have heard her shutting the door, for moments later he was rapping on it and calling for her. She quirked an eyebrow, debating if it was worth getting out her comfortable bed to open the door.

"Hermione, open this door," Harry growled out playfully, with an undertone of desire lacing his voice.

Hermione woke the next morning to Harry nuzzling her neck, sucking lightly on the delicate skin there. She was baffled but wasn't about to stop him because it felt amazing. She wove her fingers in his unruly hair, holding him close to her, enjoying his ministrations and warmth.

"Morning, beautiful," he murmured in her ear in his deep baritone that seemed to always cause shivers down her spine. He grasped her and turned her to spoon against him, chest pressed firmly to her back. He laced their fingers together behind her arm, looking at them.

"I love these fingers," he said, smiling.

"That's sweet, Harry," she returned, tilting back to kiss his chin.

"No, I meant _my _fingers," he replied cheekily. Instead of a kiss he received a flick on the nose. He stretched lazily, smattering gentle kisses along her shoulder and arm before sitting up.

"Last night...thank you, Harry," she told him, a gentle smile on her face.

"You're welcome, 'Mione," he returned, giving her his famous lopsided smile.

About that time, Bluebell popped in the room, bringing a tray laden with a variety of breakfast foods and a small blue vial.

"Breakfast for Harry and his 'Mione," she squeaked. She levitated the tray onto the bed and bowed slightly. "The potion is for Harry's 'Mione. It be a vitamin potion for the new little Potter," she beamed before disappearing with a quiet pop.

"New little Potter?" Hermione choked out.

"Hermione...you're not pregnant are you?" Harry looked at her, face white.

"I...I don't know Harry," she whispered, tears suddenly running down her cheeks.

Harry pulled her close and wrapped her in his arms.

"I'm not angry, Hermione," he murmured in a gentle voice. "If you were in fact pregnant, damn, I'd be scared as hell, but I'd be thrilled, 'Mione," he continued. He rubbed his hand down her spine as she sobbed into his bare chest.

"You're alright, love. I'm not angry," he kept repeating in her ear as he continued to soothe her. He stretched his fingers to keep them from going numb but didn't move otherwise, his legs tangled with hers, making it difficult to tell where he ended and she began.

They laid there for what seemed forever, too comfortable and too lazy to move. Harry was the first one to finally move and he sat Hermione up with him.

"You need to eat," he coaxed.

She nodded. "I know but I'm so scared,"she whispered.

"Everything will work out, I am not going to leave your side," he stated vehemently. "In fact," he continued, "I'm taking today and tomorrow off."

"But Harry—" she protested.

"Nope, you're not going to play that card, Hermione," he looked down at her, smirking. "I can afford to, and besides, Robbards is probably tired of looking at my ugly mug," he mused, the smirk never leaving his face. He called for Bluebell, arms still full of the curly headed witch that had taken up a great space in his heart.

"Bluebell, can you take a message to—"

"Bluebell has already done it, sirs. She heard you saying you need to take care of your 'Mione. Robbybards granted your leave and told you not to come back for four days," she interrupted before he could even get the request out.

Harry gaped at her, but nodded.

"Thank you, Bluebell. You have been incredibly helpful," he acknowledged, smiling down at the small elf. She nodded and disappeared.

"Do you feel up to eating, love?" He asked once the elf left.

"I think so," she said but her answer was changed once her stomach let out a loud rumble. She blushed, slightly embarrassed but giggled a little.

"I'll take that as a yes," Harry stated, eyebrow quirking. He pulled the tray within reach and plucked a fork up and speared a still warm piece of sausage up and fed it to her. He smiled on as she chewed it. Before she could swallow she catapulted out of the bed, making a run for the loo. Harry moved the tray aside and followed her quickly barely managing to get in the room in time to hold her hair back as the witch got sick.

He snapped his fingers quietly and Bluebell appeared with an anti-nausea potion and a damp rag. He took them gratefully from her and she left quietly as she came. He leant around and gently wiped his witch's face and mouth. She leant back into him, spent from getting sick and he held her, kissing her head. With his free hand he uncorked the vial of potion and tipped it into her mouth as she sighed gratefully.

The time would come later to be shocked but right now she was just grateful that Harry was by her side instead of abandoning her much like her red-headed git of an ex had in times past. When the nausea subsided, Harry stood and helped her to her feet, escorting her back to his bedroom. The offended get food was gone and replaced by some oatmeal, toast, and fresh fruit with some tea. He helped her back into the bed and made sure she was comfortable before joining her. She attacked the oatmeal with gusto, cleaning the bowl quickly and then took the vitamin potion, chasing it down with some tea to mask the bitterness.

He grasped her hand, looking at her topaz eyes, which were red-rimmed from her tears earlier.

"Hermione, don't worry about it for now. I'm here, I'm not leaving. That's all you need to remember," he repeated.

"We can go see Pansy tomorrow, if you'd like," he added.

She exhaled in relief and squeezed his hand in return. She could panic and withdraw later, she mused to herself. For now she could let Harry take care of her and not close off just yet. But she had to make a back-up plan at some point, _just in case_ Harry changed his mind and hated the child that could possibly be growing in her womb at that moment.

She got up after kissing his head and padded to the bathroom to shower and think.

Once she stripped off and turned on the shower she finally let the dam break and stepped into the shower, tears in her eyes. She was feeling thrilled, scared, and confused and overwhelmed. How could she be pregnant? She was on birth control wasn't she? She was holding the soapy sponge when that thought crossed her mind and she almost dropped it, eyes widening in realisation. She had went off the potion after her and Ron's divorce finalised, because she never expected another man to show interest in her. Ron had practically drilled that much into her head. She squeezed her eyes shut as she remembered her former husband's words. She let out a low groan as everything began to fall into place.

"Oh, how could I be so stupid? I'm a witch, Circe's sake!" She groused.

She rinsed the soap off her body and paused when she reached her stomach, slightly rubbing it, a small smile forming on her face. She reached for her shampoo but took one whiff when she opened the bottle, retching when the smell hit her nose. She set it down and reached for Harry's instead and soaped her hair up, still deep in thought. _What if Harry was lying only to placate me? What if he hates this potential baby? What if he doesn't actually want this baby?_ She shook her head at her crazy thoughts and sniffled.

She finished her shower and stepped out, casting a wandless drying charm on herself and another spell to tame her innumerable curls. She plucked a towel from the cupboard, but then put it back—she had nothing to hide from Harry. She exited the loo and walked confidently towards her bedroom. What she didn't count on was Harry coming out of his bedroom at the same time, nearly colliding with her. Before she could even stumble, Harry had his arms around her, keeping her steady.

"Merlin, witch! Are you trying to start something?" He asked, smirking.

She blushed. "I didn't expect you to be coming out of there just yet," she murmured, slightly embarrassed.

"You're beautiful and I'd have to be a troll not to notice," he said, squashing her self doubts quickly, brushing a light kiss across her rosy lips. He allowed his eyes to trail down her body, noticing her slightly rounded stomach. He carefully rested his hand on the small swell, startling the witch.

"What are you doing, Harry?" she whispered in confusion.

"I'm still in shock, I guess. You could be carrying _my _baby," he replied, awe in his tone. He removed his hand after a few moments, then drew Hermione closer to him, and kissing her soundly. When he released her, she noticed his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"Harry, are you alright?" she asked, slightly panicked.

He wiped his eyes, smiling. "I'm wonderful, 'Mione. If you are indeed pregnant, I'm so thrilled," he said, pulling her into his hold again.

Her brain could not comprehend that he was truly happy she could be pregnant, causing her to pull out of his grasp and rushing to her bedroom to dress. She had to get her plan finalised and finalised _fast _before Harry could tell her he'd changed his mind.

**Ending A/N: Did you catch my F.R.I.E.N.D.S. reference there? 10 cool points if you did!**


	9. Chapter Eight

**A/N: Another chapter! This one is not as happy as my others have been. Thank you for your continued support of this story and thank you to MrsRen who is the world's greatest Beta! The usual warnings apply. Proceed at your own risk. -RCC {Edited for continuity errors.}**

In the safety of her room, with a few locking spells added for good measure, Hermione flopped herself on the bed, mind spinning. _Harry couldn't be serious could he?_ she thought. _Surely he didn't really mean it when he said he'd be thrilled if I were pregnant_, she reasoned with herself. She closed her eyes, trying to calm her rapid breathing before things got completely out of hand. _This _was one of the times she wished her Mum were there to comfort and give much needed advice. She scooted back onto the pillows and curled in a ball and let the tears come freely, in a predicament she didn't know how to handle.

Hours passed before she managed to pull herself together and finally dress in a loose fitting shirt and some track pants. She crossed the room to the fireplace and scooped up some powder, throwing it in, calling for the only person who could help her: Pansy Parkinson-Malfoy.

"Well, Granger," a drawling voice came out of the fireplace. She groaned when she recognised it; it wasn't Pansy, but instead her tow-headed husband.

"H-Hello Draco," she stuttered out, eyes widening.

"Relax, I'll get Pansy," he said with a teasing grin, head disappearing.

She sat back on her haunches, waiting for Pansy to appear.

"Hermione, what's wrong?" Pansy immediately asked, not bothering with pleasantries.

"I think...I think I might be pregnant," the other witch choked out, tears springing to her eyes again. "I don't know what I'm going to do!" she cried out.

"Move over, I'm coming through," Pansy instructed crisply.

The brunette witch did as instructed and in an instant, the raven-haired witch was exiting the Floo and dusting herself off.

"When was your last period? Do you have any symptoms?" the witch asked in rapid succession.

"My last period…?" Hermione trailed off, trying to think. "I'm nauseated by certain odours and I'm bloated, but that's it," she said, in answer to Pansy's last question. She chewed on her bottom lip nervously, brow furrowed, still trying to recall her last menstrual cycle. She exhaled before answering. "I honestly cannot recall. It's been a hectic few months," she finally admitted, as she paced the floor.

Pansy quirked an eyebrow, but didn't say anything. Hermione perched on the end of the bed, tugging at her curls, nervous still.

"Would it put your mind at ease if I performed the charm?" Pansy inquired.

Hermione nodded quickly, a slight look of terror on her face.

"Alright, lie back and raise your shirt," the witch instructed, slipping into Healer mode.

Hermione did as instructed and Pansy waved her wand over Hermione's belly, murmuring _graviditatis revelare_. A light yellow mist formed over the witch's belly, indicating that she was indeed pregnant.

"Well damn, Hermione," Pansy muttered, quite shocked.

"Pansy, perform it again. Are you sure I'm pregnant?" Hermione squeaked out, clutching at her shirt.

The raven-haired witch nodded, performing the spell again. The same yellow mist appeared over Hermione's belly like it had moments before.

"You're at least two months, Hermione," the healer-witch confirmed.

Hermione took two sharp steps backward, her back meeting the wall. Her palms were clammy as she braced herself against the drywall, sliding to the floor. Her vision already growing blurry, she could feel sobs threatening to crack open her chest. "Oh, Merlin. What am I going to do now?"

Pansy reached for her, her hand calming, but Hermione jerked away from her. "Hermione…"

"I need to be alone." Hermione's response was hard, and she covered her face as she began to cry. "I need to figure this out."

Her friend stiffly nodded. "There are plenty of options. It's going to be okay."

She couldn't say that she believed Pansy much. "It's going to be okay," Hermione repeated, but she could taste the lie on her tongue.

Pansy strode to the fireplace and threw in some Floo powder, calling out for her home and disappearing in the flames after shooting a sympathetic glance back at the witch.

The moment Hermione was sure Pansy was gone, she got up from the floor slowly and flicked her wand, bringing her beaded bag out of the walk in wardrobe and sending it to the bed. She flicked it again, and clothing, shoes, and undergarments came sailing out of the wardrobe. She murmured the incantation to fold the clothing and fasten the shoes together to keep them from creating a mess in the bag and then allowed them to settle inside it. She gathered some books from her shelves and shrunk them, dropping them into the bag. She pulled it closed and slid the strap over her wrist, Apparating on the spot to the flat above Flourish and Blotts. She couldn't even bear to face Harry, not after this.

Harry was growing worried, the more he paced. He'd heard a strangled yell from the direction of Hermione's bedroom, so he made a mad dash for her room, but found he could not get in, for she had warded the door to keep him out. He frowned when he thought of how strange she had been acting since Bluebell said something about the "newest Potter". It's almost as if she were afraid of him...but why would she be? She was fine at dinner, throwing her head back and laughing, and relaxed. _Is it work? No, she said it was a good day at the shop. Is it something I've done? _He fluffed his hair nervously, pacing back and forth in front of her door, trying to think of something he might've done or said to upset her. Finally, he asked himself: _What would make Hermione close in on herself so fast? Oh_, he thought. He scowled, realising that his red-headed ex-friend still held that power over her.

He tried again to get Hermione to open her door, noticing that things had gotten eerily quiet in the last few minutes. "Hermione?" He called. He knocked again, and then gently turned the knob, mentally preparing to be knocked back but he was able to enter the room, hex-free. The room wasn't totally empty, but he noticed something wasn't right. It didn't take him long to realise that Hermione was gone. He strode to her wardrobe, immediately noticing an amount of clothing had gone missing.

"Bluebell!" He snapped.

The little elf appeared, ears flapping madly, wringing her hands all the while. "Missus Minny is being gone, sir," she said in a trembling tone, having forgotten Harry's admonishment for her not to call him sir.

Harry exhaled loudly, raking a hand through his already unruly hair and tugging at it in frustration. "Do you know where she's gone, Bluebell?" He asked, voice cracking.

"Yes sir," she replied timidly, "but Missus Minny wouldn't like to be found," she stated, with a sharp nod.

Harry's lips thinned at the elf's answer.

"Thank you Bluebell. You can return to your chores," Harry stated dismissively. He ran his hands through his hair again, unsure of what to do.

He left her bedroom, headed for the lounge and to the desk that resided in the small library area. He pulled a piece of parchment and hastily jotted a note to his mum and rolled it up, tying it to the leg of his owl.

"Take this directly to Mum and I'll give extra treats if you wait for a reply. Off you go," he told the majestic owl who hooted at him indignantly for being woken so rudely. He watched as it sailed out the window and he exhaled slowly. Hopefully his mum could help. He was full stop in love with the tiny witch and he was a hopeless sap, much like his Dad had been when he had met Mum.

_This is my fault. I scared her off, _he bemoaned.

He strode to the fireplace and threw in a bit of powder and called for Pansy. Seconds later, Draco's blond head appeared in the fireplace.

"Fancy seeing you, Potter," he drawled, a slight smirk on his face. "I saw your counterpart less than twenty minutes ago and she looked as if I'd grown two heads," he continued. "You want to speak to Pansy, I assume?" he asked.

"Yes please, Malfoy. Hermione's gone and I have no idea where she's gone," he admitted nervously.

"Just a minute, Potter. I'll get her," the blond wizard said.

Harry tugged at the hair near the nape of his neck as he waited.

Minutes later, Pansy's head appeared.

"Blimey! Two of you in one day? I must be lucky," she bemused. Harry frowned at her, causing her to stop short.

"What's happened? I know that face, Potter," Pansy said.

"Hermione's gone and I'm worried, Pansy," he groaned, rubbing his face.

Pansy chewed her lip, trying to stall answering him.

"Well, I saw her earlier," she responded hesitantly, "but she made no indication that she was going to leave. I'm sorry, Harry."

Harry exhaled hard, saying a short thank you before disconnecting the call. He had to find his witch. _His witch_. He could become accustomed to that title. His owl sailed back into the window, dropping the reply from his Mum in his hands. He unfurled it and read:

_"Harry, don't panic. Hermione is still broken. I know you want to help her, but just take it one step at a time. Everything will work out." -Mum_

**Hermione: **

Once in the safety of the flat above the shop, she warded it heavily to prevent unwanted guests, namely Ron. She obsessively checked the locks on the windows and doors, mind racing. For now, she was one step ahead of him, but it wouldn't be long until he'd find her.

It had been so long since she felt it, but it was impossible to forget the way panic clawed at her insides, nicking her heart, and dragging her down. Greedily swallowing mouthfuls of air, Hermione tried to talk herself down, tried to do what Pansy had always instructed her to do.

She needed to breathe, but the walls were threatening to close, and her vision swirled. Mistakenly knocking a vase from the nightstand, she jumped, and turned on her heel.

_Alone_, she was_ alone_. She needed to remember that.

Her hand dropped down to the small swell beginning to form, still unable to believe she was pregnant _again_. Hadn't she learned her lesson the first time, or the second, or even the third? She refused to get her hopes up again. Ron would be the first to tell her that she couldn't carry to term. His voice echoed in her skull as she buried her fingers into her hair and sank to the floor as her legs buckled. _She wasn't pregnant. _She _wasn't. _It was impossible. Hermione relied on statistics, facts. Those were safe. She'd had three miscarriages, she couldn't-

_Pansy wouldn't have lied to her. Of course she hadn't, the spell was performed twice_, she reasoned to herself.

She stood on shaky legs to cross the lounge to the bedroom and pushed the door open, setting her beaded bag on the bed to unpack, when she heard a faint pop. She drew her wand on the intruder, startled.

"Miss Minny! It's only Bluebell! I's mean no harm!" the little elf squeaked, cowering away from the wand pointed at her.

"Bluebell! Merciful Merlin and Morgana. How did you find me?" Hermione demanded, still frightened.  
"Missus Minny's wards can be bypassed by elves," the elf replied timidly.

Hermione slowly pulled the wand away from the elf's face and slid it into the holster she'd sewn into her sleeve, then settling heavily on the bed.

"Bluebell, I really didn't want to be found, but you already knew that I'm guessing?" She questioned.

The creature nodded, ears flapping, wringing her hands.

"Minny's Harry is so worried about her," she squeaked in reply.

"H-Harry? What do you mean worried? Ron's not allowed me to see him in years, Bluebell," the frazzled witch stated confusedly, picking at the buttons on the mattress.

"Missus Minny, that red-headed pigtoe is not after you," the little elf stated gently. "He's in that bad place," she reminded, shuddering at the same time. She patted Hermione's arm and snapped her fingers, everything from her beaded bag sailing out and into place, much as Hermione would have organised it herself and exited the room with the same faint _pop_, shaking her head as she went.

Hermione flopped back onto the bed, confused at what had just taken place. _Ron's not after you, Missus Minny _played on loop in her mind. Maybe she _was _actually pregnant, and the hormones were messing with her abnormally sharp mind. _What have I done? _she thought, rubbing at her red-rimmed eyes. She stared at the ceiling as she lay in bed, slowly calming down, finally acknowledging that she was indeed pregnant and it _wasn't _Ron's, and that she was _safe. _


	10. Chapter Nine

**A/N: Thank you again to my loyal readers. We are on chapter 9! Can you believe it? Also a big thank you to MrsRen for being an awesome Beta. Also many thanks to Misha Young for her inspiration! **

Hermione jerked awake, looking at the clock stationed on the bedside table with bleary eyes. She sat up stiffly, having fallen asleep at an odd angle but her eyes darted around the unfamiliar room. _Where am I? How did I end up here? What day is it? _She tried to steady her breathing but found she couldn't, heart racing. She had trained her mind to disassociate when the abuse from Ron began shortly after the first miscarriage and found herself slipping into it when she learned she was pregnant once more. She heard a thud and scooted back, startled, against the headboard, pulling the covers with her, praying that it wasn't Ron. She thought of casting a disillusionment spell but Ron had forbade her to hide from him. Moments passed as her heart still thudded heavily, but she didn't hear the thud again. She stood shakily and crept towards the door, wand firmly grasped in her dominant hand.

She opened the door a crack, silently lighting her wand and shining it into the outer room. She saw that a heavy tome had fallen from the lower shelf and she exhaled in relief, hand pressed to her chest. She made her way to where it had fallen and picked it up, unfurling pages before closing it and saw a note inscribed on the first page: _Hermione, I'm rubbish at finding books that you haven't read, but hopefully you haven't read this one. -Harry_

_Harry? When had he been able to give me this book? _She rubbed her fingers gently over his messy handwriting and smiled, her heartbeat slowing. She blinked, remembering that he'd given it to her shortly after she'd moved into his flat. _Hermione, get yourself together, _she thought to herself. _You've lived with Harry for almost nine months now. Bluebell was right and you probably made her think you belonged in the mental ward at St Mungos! _She exhaled again, trying to slow her breathing to match her heart rate. _You've been utterly ridiculous, _she chided herself. _Harry is worried sick about you! _

She replaced the book on the shelf and placed her hand on the small bump, as had become a habit like in times past. "Your mummy is sorry, little one," whispered. "Your Daddy doesn't know yet but he will soon and he will love you, of that I am sure," she whispered quietly and rubbed the forming bump.

She padded to the comfortable sofa and lit the small lamp on the oak side table, bathing the room in dim, warm light. She pulled the worn afghan from the back of the sofa and wrapped it around her shoulders, pulling it snug before curling into one side of the sofa. She flipped the telly that she had charmed to work in the Wizarding world on, unable to go back to sleep. She clicked through the channels aimlessly, lowering the volume so it wouldn't disturb her if she were able to fall back asleep.

* * *

_Her eyes fluttered open, hearing Harry's deep baritone shushing little Andrew as he paced the floor, patting the newborn's back. She sat up on her elbows watching him, her heart swelling with love. As the dark haired wizard walked back toward the Moses basket to lower the baby in, he noticed his witch gazing at him and a sheepish look crossed his face. _

"_Sorry love, did I wake you?" he murmured quietly. _

_She shook her head. "No I was already a bit awake; I haven't slept well in weeks," she answered in a low tone. _

"_I know, rest," Harry admonished her sweetly._

_She laid back down and got comfortable, closing her eyes, but still listening to him as he soothed their baby. She heard soft rustling and surmised that Andrew had been settled back into his Moses basket. She heard quiet footsteps and felt the mattress dip, a sleepy smile on her face as Harry pulled her back against him, wrapping his long, muscular arms around her. He kissed her neck and settled more in the bed. _

"_Thank you for taking such wonderful care of Andrew," she whispered in his ear. _

"_Nonsense," he replied. "Andrew is mine and I love him, just as I love you, Hermione. So if I can help my darling wife with just a bit more sleep, I'll gladly pace the floor with our boy," he finished. _

_She tilted her head back and kissed his chin softly. _

"_I love you too, Harry Potter," she said. Her eyes focused briefly on his striking emerald ones that seemed to radiate even in the darkness of their bedroom before allowing sleep to overtake her once more, secure in the arms of her wizard. _

* * *

Her eyes shot open as she groaned, the lounge room coming into focus, bathed in the afternoon sunlight. They darted around, fully expecting to see evidence of a baby being an occupant of the flat but was sorely disappointed when it showed none, but then she remembered that she was barely pregnant enough to begin buying baby grows, or prams, let alone nappies and dummies. She cast a silent Tempus charm and saw that it was almost four P.M. _Merciful Merlin! I missed work! _She scrambled up to go send an owl but realised it was the weekend and the shop was closed, thankfully, so she sank back onto the sofa. She'd been in the flat for almost four days now, and no word from Harry or any of them.

_Is he angry with me? _she wondered. As soon as the thought crossed her mind, Bluebell popped into the room near the sofa.

"Missus Minny, be's you alright?" the little elf asked.

Hermione straightened up, slightly startled from the elf's sudden appearance.

"Bluebell is sorry for startling Missus," she said mournfully, ears folded back in shame.

"Bluebell, it's alright," the witch soothed. "How is Harry?" she asked, biting her lip slightly.

"He be worried about his Minny, but is alright," she replied.

The elf snapped her fingers and a tray laden with food appeared on the coffee table before the sofa, along with the familiar vitamin potion.

"Thank you Bluebell, but this wasn't—" Hermione said, slightly stunned.  
"Mas-Harry would be upset if I didn't make sure his Minny were fed and his little Potter were taken care of," she replied hastily, cutting the witch off mid-sentence.

Fortunately, Hermione was too peckish to argue, so she tucked quickly into the food and downed the vitamin potion under the watchful eye of the elf.

"Thank you Bluebell, it was truly delicious," she praised, wiping her mouth carefully with the provided cloth napkin.

The elf smiled, ears flapping in delight. She snapped her fingers and the empty tray disappeared.

"Would Missus Minny like Bluebell to tell Harry that she is alright?" the elf asked hesitantly.

"Yes, that would be alright, Bluebell, and please tell him how sorry I am for leaving so abruptly," the witch said, biting her lip in slight shame.

Bluebell nodded and disappeared with a pop, leaving Hermione to her own thoughts.

* * *

Hermione hadn't forgotten the dream that had awoken her to begin with. It stirred something inside her that she didn't know existed. Longing? Loneliness? A desire to be loved? She stood from the sofa, stretching and rubbing her lower back before moving to the desk and sitting down at the chair, selecting a self-inking quill and piece of parchment. She nibbled on the end, trying to decide if she should write Pansy first, or Harry.

She decided to jot a note to Pansy, asking her to come over and hesitantly called for Bluebell. The little elf appeared immediately.

"Yes Missus Minny? Bluebell heard you call for her. How can I help Harry's Minny?" the little elf chattered.

"Can you please take this note to Mrs Pansy Malfoy, Bluebell? Please wait for an answer too, if you don't mind," Hermione answered.

"Bluebell will be glad to!" she replied enthusiastically. She took the sealed parchment and disappeared quietly.

Hermione exhaled, flexing her fingers and putting the quill back in the cup that housed her other writing utensils.

* * *

Bluebell returned a while later, Pansy in tow.

"Hi, Hermione," Pansy said as she crossed the room and engulfed the curly headed witch in a tight hug.

"Thank you for bringing me, Bluebell," Pansy said as she acknowledged the helpful creature. The elf nodded and disappeared quietly, leaving the two witches to discuss the contents of the note.

"I've screwed up, Pansy," Hermione moaned, taking a seat on the sofa, followed by Pansy seating herself on the other end and putting her black medical bag on the floor by her feet.

"Hermione, before you go off on one of your tangents, hear me out," Pansy stated firmly. "You are scared, and it is okay to be scared. I know that you've dealt with things that no witch, or wizard should have to go through. But Hermione, you need help, and you need to do it soon before you scare Harry off," she finished sharply.

Hermione just stared at the other witch as she paced the floor, too stunned to retort.

Pansy whirled around to face her. "Hermione, you know I mean well and you're my friend but Ron has held this fear over you for far too long. I know you are afraid," she reiterated, "but Harry loves you and I do as well and we want the best is for you."

Quiet sobs broke the silence when Pansy finished.

"What if Harry hates me?!" Hermione cried.

"He doesn't hate you, he's just concerned that he's done something wrong," Pansy said, in an attempt to soothe her. She sank down beside her and put an arm around her shoulders, giving a side hug.

The younger witch's cries eventually tapered off into sniffles and Pansy relinquished the arm around her shoulders.

"He really doesn't hate me?" she asked, unsure if Pansy was telling the truth or not.

"He really doesn't, Hermione. Would you feel better if you had another check up and a test to confirm the paternity?" the mediwitch asked her friend, glancing at her.

"Yes, but I'd really rather Harry be here. I need to apologise to him. Merlin he's going to be upset with me," she sighed, cleaning her face with the corner of the afghan.

Pansy nodded and stood, patting the curly headed witch's knee. She crossed the floor to the fireplace and picked up a pinch of Floo Powder from the dish on the mantle to call Harry. She threw it in and called for Harry, seating herself on the small stool that was situated near the fireplace for such occasions.

"Pansy!" came his deep baritone. "Is she alright?" he inquired rapidly.

"She's fine, Harry, she wanted you to come over. She has a few things to tell you," the witch answered.

Harry's face paled slightly but he nodded and disconnected the call without a word, stepping through the fireplace moments later.

Hermione waited with baited breath as she watched Harry cross the room, almost afraid to look at him. She felt his strong arms wrap around her and pick her up from her seat on the sofa, embracing her snugly.

"Merlin, witch. You had me worried sick," he breathed into her ear, kissing below it gently and down her neck, never letting go. He lowered himself to the sofa with her in his lap.

She turned around, head against his chest, tears soaking his shirt once again. Her shoulders sagged in relief, finally feeling safe again.

"Hey now, what's this?" Harry murmured in her ear, rubbing her back. "I'm here. You're safe," he whispered soothingly in her ear.

When her sobs subsided the second time, she sat up and allowed him to cast a quick cleaning charm on her face.

"Thank you," she whispered, giving him a watery smile. He just squeezed her tightly and kissed her head as they waited for Pansy to get things set up.


	11. Chapter Ten

**Author's Note: Thank you again to my loyal readers. A big thanks of course goes to my Alpha, MrsRen and also to HufflePuffMommy for the inspiration in this chapter. Per usual, I own nothing but am grateful that Queen Rowling lets me play with her characters. This chapter is shorter than normal, but tis' a good fluffy one. Enjoy!**

Hermione stretched out on the sofa, with her head in Harry's lap after he got settled. He sent a reassuring smile her way and squeezed her hand in a comforting gesture.

"Ready, Hermione?" the witch inquired. The other witch nodded in reply.

"Alright. I'll get your vitals first and take measurements then we'll check on the baby." At that, Pansy flicked her wand towards the bag on the table nearby and a measuring tape along with other paraphernalia sailed out of it and set to work. The tape nudged Hermione gently and she raised her shirt so measurements could be taken, sending them directly to the muggle pen and clipboard that floated near Pansy.

"Pansy, have you got that enchanted to automatically note information?" Harry asked, slightly bewildered that she was using a _muggle pen_, not to mention a _muggle clipboard_.

"Yes, actually," she answered, fighting a smile, "not that it's your business, Potter, but _your_ witch introduced them to me a year ago," she finished, watching as his eyes widened a little more at the emphasis on Hermione being his witch.

Hermione lay still as Pansy flicked her wand over her to register vitals and kept an impassive face. She pocketed her wand once finished and glanced at Hermione.  
"Everything looks normal, your heart rate is a little high but with all that's happened, that was to be expected," she stated.

Hermione exhaled in relief and swapped positions, settling to recline against Harry, with his legs on either side of her.

"Ready for the fun part now?" Pansy asked, eyeing her patient.

"Yes, I think I'm ready," Hermione answered a bit shakily. She knew what was coming because she'd had to endure it before to confirm the miscarriage of her previous babies. Harry seemed to have picked up on her nervousness because he dropped a subtle kiss to her neck to calm her.

Pansy cast a cleansing charm on Hermione's small bump and then on her own hands and began the physical portion of the exam. She protruded gently on the too small roundness of the witch's belly as Harry watched in confusion.  
"Sorry to nose in, but what are you doing exactly, Pansy?" he asked, breaking the tense silence.

"I'm checking to see how she's fairing, and to see how many weeks or months gestation the fetus is," she answered patiently. When finished, she straightened up and gave Hermione a reassuring smile. "You're measuring a bit small, but you're approximately four months pregnant, which means we could see your baby and determine the gender," she informed her.

Hermione nodded. "C...can you do the spell to see who the father is, to make sure?" she asked timidly.

"Of course," Pansy reassured, patting Hermione's hand. She withdrew the wand from her pocket, pointing it at Hermione's belly. She murmured _Paternitas Revelare and_ a soft yellow glow encased the area around it, before emitting a puff of emerald green.

Harry's eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to speak, but found that his voice wouldn't come. He cleared his throat twice. "Does this mean that…that the baby is actually mine?", he asked, shifting around.

"Yes," said Pansy quietly, looking over at him.

He kissed the top of Hermione's hair, his voice choked. "Thank you for giving me a baby, lovely," he whispered.

Hermione merely nodded, momentarily rendered speechless.

"Do you want to see your baby now, Hermione?" Pansy asked.

She nodded, tears rolling down her cheeks. She took Harry's hands and held them tightly, squeezing them to keep herself grounded.

Pansy cleared her throat and murmured the incantation and an image projected above Hermione's stomach, similar to a Muggle sonogram machine. She moved the image around to get the best angle, unable to hide the smile on her face.

Harry and Hermione both watched in awe as their baby came into view. She bit her lip in anticipation, Harry slack-jawed.

"Well...looks like you'll be outnumbered, Hermione," Pansy stated joking as she flicked her wand to keep the image that revealed the gender stable, making copies of the image for the parents to have later.

"A...a boy?" Harry asked, swallowing hard as he shifted.

"Yes indeed, Harry. Congratulations," Pansy confirmed, beaming.

"Oh my…" Hermione breathed, tears forming anew, only to be cut off by Harry kissing her soundly, tears of his own mixing in with hers.

"I'll leave you two be," Pansy said quietly and waved her wand, her things packing themselves neatly. She waved it again and the image of the baby disappeared. She deposited the sonogram photos on the table before exiting quietly via Floo.

As the tears subsided, Hermione shifted to face Harry.  
"I'm so excited but scared at the same time," she mused, sniffling slightly. "I am sorry for shutting you out and running. I was afraid that you'd hate me for being pregnant with your baby," she admitted, looking at her lap.

Harry grasped her chin gently and tilted it up to make her look at him. "Hermione, I'm not angry that you left. I understand that you were scared. You just worried me when you disappeared so fast. I was worried that _I _had done something wrong," he said, exhaling. "But, I told you when you thought you might be pregnant initially that I'd be scared as hell, but also thrilled that you're carrying _my _baby," he continued, lifting her hand and kissing her knuckles tenderly.

She allowed a small smile in acknowledgement to his reiteration.

He cleared his throat, pulling her near and wrapping an arm around her, placing his other hand on the gentle swell of her stomach.

"Hi baby boy...this is your daddy. .I'm so excited that your Mummy has you in her belly," he whispered, smiling.

Hermione hugged his head against her, overwhelmed with the love she felt flowing through her.


	12. Chapter Eleven

A/N: First off, I need to apologise to you all. I made a timeline mistake in the previous chapter. Hermione is not four months pregnant, but indeed only three months. I blame the nargles! Anyway, thank you as always to MrsRen for being my Alpha! I own nothing except this laptop. I really apologise for the hiatus, but I promise things are picking back up. Some of these scenes were inspired by the episode of F.R.I.E.N.D.S "The One Where Joey Dates Rachel". Enjoy!

Hermione was propped up on the sofa, engrossed in _Your Magical Child and You_, devouring every word. She may be a witch, but she was a Muggle first, meaning she had little idea of how pregnancies in the magical world worked. Her stomach growled, but she tried to ignore it. Being three months pregnant, she had barely gotten out of the constant nausea and vomiting stage, so food hadn't quite regained her interest. Since her two week check up with Pansy, things had finally settled into a comfortable routine once more. She was slowly gaining weight, knowing that the dangers of losing their son were finally past, and celebrated each milestone with Harry, grateful for each one.

The Floo chimed and she looked up to see the man who was the cause of her momentary ire step out of it, dusting the soot off his jacket. He smiled at her, dashingly and she wanted to hex him, but instead she returned the smile. He crossed the room and kissed her on the head after hanging his uniform jacket up and kicking his boots off on the designated mat near the Floo.

"Good afternoon, beautiful. How are you and baby Potter feeling?" he asked as he pulled out a small bag and tapped his finger on it, enlarging it. He placed the bag in her lap and sat down, moving her feet into his lap.

"You know this is the third time in two weeks that you've sent me a Patronus to stop at Honeydukes, don't you, Miss Granger?" He teased, rubbing her growing belly softly.

Hermione snapped the book closed and ripped the bag open, devouring some of the assorted sweets from Honeydukes. When Harry tried to reach into the bag for a piece, she hissed at him, swatting his hand away.

"Did you get a fresh batch of hormones today, luv?" He asked timidly, scooting away from her to a safe distance on the sofa.

She glared at him, a ring of chocolate on her mouth. "It's your fault I'm craving sweets, Harry James. After all it's _your _child I'm carrying," she retorted irritably. "And I hate sweets!" She grumbled as an afterthought, hiccuping from the harried consumption of so much sugar.

"Darling, I know you do, but he craves them and you're doing such a wonderful job of creating a home for what we created out of our love," Harry spoke softly, praising her. He scooted closer and cupped her cheek, looking into her eyes.

She shifted forward, leaning into his touch, heart melted into a puddle at his words. "Merlin, Harry James," she breathed. "That smooth talk is what got me into trouble to begin with," She said, eyes closed.

"Well then, 'Mione, would you be my girlfriend?" Harry asked, a slight tremble in his voice.

Hermione silently cursed the Dursleys to Hades and beyond the Veil for the insecurity they ingrained in his mind, even fifteen years later. "I thought we were already dating," she replied, straight-faced.

Harry's eyes bugged out and his cheeks flushed red in embarrassment. "I-I'm sorry," he stammered, sitting back quickly.

"Oh, Harry," she whispered, reaching out and putting her hand lightly on his bicep. "Harry, I was only teasing," she murmured. "I'd be honoured to be your girlfriend."

Harry exhaled visibly, grateful that she hadn't turned him down. His ears pinked and he grinned sheepishly at her.

"So...erm...how about I take you out on a proper date?" he posed, once the awkwardness had passed.

"Harry, I'm pregnant! No-one wants to date a pregnant witch," she protested, shifting positions on the sofa.

"Yes I do! I'll tell you what, we'll go out and have a nice dinner at your favourite restaurant so you can forget about the medi witches cutting you open without a pain potion and—"

"Alright Harry! Merlin, I'll go, if only it's to get you shut your mouth," she interrupted quickly.

Harry guffawed at her reaction, only to have a sofa cushion thrown in his direction. He narrowly missed being hit in the arse so Hermione cast a gentle stinging hex at the aforementioned moving target. He yelped in an umanly way, causing Hermione to fall back on the sofa in a burst of giggles.

Hermione was slipping her shoe on when a knock caused her to briefly lose balance but she caught herself on the wall. "Harry can you get that?" she called out. When he didn't answer, she called out for him again. "Harry can you please get the door?" She huffed and crossed the room and opened the door, only to find the bane of her momentary existence leaned casually against the doorjamb. Hermione looked at him, slightly bewildered.

Harry smirked and handed her a bouquet of light pink roses and gerbera daisies that he withdrew from behind his back.

"Please come in," she said, moving aside to admit him to the flat.

Harry strode confidently into the flat, looking around the room. "Nice place you have here, Miss Granger," he smirked.

"Oh honestly, Harry!" she chided, huffing at him.

"What? I promised to take you on a date and I'm keeping my end of the bargain," he replied, grinning.

"Alright, I suppose you are. Let me just get my wrap and I'll be ready," she said, turning and summoning it with a flick of her hand. She handed it to Harry and he placed it around her shoulders, kissing each one as he moved his hands away.

"Oh I almost forgot," Harry stated. He withdrew a bag from his pocket and and enlarged it, handing it over.

"Honeydukes sweets! Thank you, Harry," she said, grinning broadly at him. She laid the bag on the table, looking longingly at it.

"Come on, my little chocolate snob, dinner awaits," Harry said, taking her by the hand and leading her towards the door.

She pouted at him, but followed him out the door, closing it behind her and muttering the spell to lock it securely.

He escorted her to the car park on the ground floor of the building and to the car he had rented for the evening.

"Well, Harry, I'm quite impressed. That's an Astin Martin. Where did you rent it?" Hermione inquired as he held the passenger door open for her. She slid into the leather seat and tucked her skirt out of the way.

Once he was settled in the driver's seat, he turned slightly to look at her.

"You are correct, gorgeous, but how did you know that?" he asked, furrowing a brow at her.

"Oh, erm… my father was a car enthusiast and I was dragged to countless car museums during holidays and this was one of his favourites," she answered promptly, a brief nostalgic smile crossing her face.

"By the way, Harry James, I know exactly how much you spent on this date," she said with an arched brow.

He grinned sheepishly at her, occupying his hands with the keys.

"You may, Hermione _Jean_, but I don't feel one bit ashamed because you deserve the best," he returned. He leaned over and kissed her cheek, causing her to blush. He inserted the key and started the engine, and they left the car park.

"Hermione just pick one! If you had to hex Neville, Luna, Draco, or Pansy who would you choose?" Harry asked, taking a sip of his pre-ordered butterbeer.

"No Harry! None of them! They're my friends. I wouldn't hex any of them," she answered, giving her famous _look_.

"Draco?" he asked, trying to appear innocent.

Hermione paused, sipping her water, before answering.

"Yes, because he's one whom I can be harsher towards, since we were 'sworn enemies' at Hogwarts," she replied, grinning.

"Also, I owe you rent for this month; please don't let me forget to pay you," she said, sipping from the water goblet in her hand.

"Now, Miss Granger, I'm your boyfriend now, not just your flatmate. Besides, have you forgotten I'm filthy rich?" he said, winking at her. At that, the menus appeared before them, conversation ceasing.

"It all looks so good… I don't know what to choose," Hermione groaned, eyes still roving over the selections that La Magie had to offer. La Magie was a new bistro that opened in a new area of Diagon Alley after the war and was proving to be quite popular.

"I think I'll have the ribeye steak… but I also want shrimp scampi," she stated, frowning slightly.

"Well, get them both if that's what you would like, darling, and I think I'll have the same," Harry said, smiling at her over his menu. They tapped their menus to place their order, and immediately they disappeared from their sight.

Their entrees quickly appeared before them and Hermione quickly dug in, moaning at every bite.

"Merlin, this is delicious," she groaned. She glanced up and saw the tips of Harry's ears reddening.

He leaned over and whispered in her ear, gripping her knee under the table suggestively.

"Hermione, if you keep moaning like that, so help me I will take you back to the flat this instant and fuck you against the headboard. No, I'm not Ron and I won't harm you in the ways you did. But Merlin, witch, you're so beautiful and so sexy—even before I learned you were carrying _my _baby. But now, your body is doing all the right things for this pregnancy, my darling and driving _me _crazy. You amaze me, you lovely woman," he finished, kissing her ear softly.

She cleared her throat, cheeks reddening, almost to match the burgundy floral wrap dress she'd chosen that night to hide her small baby bump.

"Harry!" she hissed, shifting uncomfortably in the chair.

He straightened up, smirking at her.

"Yes, dear?" he asked, smiling innocently at her.

"You can't say such things in public," she whispered, cheeks still brilliantly flushed.

Harry merely winked at her and continued eating his meal.

Hermione carefully laid the silverware on her plate, indicating she was finished and sat back, carefully wiping her mouth with the provided cloth napkin.

"Harry, that was wonderful. I honestly cannot recall the last time I was treated to such a nice meal." She said wistfully.

"Well I can promise that will change," Harry said, a brief flash of anger crossing his face.

She saw the anger and her smile dropped. "I'm...I'm sorry, Harry," she stammered.

He reached out and clasped her hand in his.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, 'Mione," he murmured, rubbing her knuckles with his thumb. "I'll get the cheque and we can go back to the flat, alright?"  
She nodded in response, beginning to close in on herself.

The moment they reached the flat, Harry immediately pulled her towards their now shared bedroom and divested her of her clothing, leaving her only in a matching pale yellow bra and lace knickers. He shucked his own dinner jacket and shirt off, kicking his dress slippers off near the closet. He laid down on his side of the large bed and motioned for her to join him. He flicked his wand towards the door, shutting it, and placed his wand in the tray on the bedside table.

Once she had lain down, she turned on her side facing him and rubbed her hand down her bump.

"Harry...what if our baby is a squib or muggle?" she whispered fearfully. "I'm a Muggleborn and you're a half blood. Anything could go wrong," she stated, tears welling up in her eyes.

Harry pulled her into his embrace, passing his hand up and down her back in a soothing manner. He refrained from speaking, allowing his touch to comfort her. He tucked her head under his chin and used his free hand to rub her belly. They lay entwined for awhile, until he heard her snoring softly. He chuckled quietly and wordlessly summoned the book he'd been reading to help prepare him for magical fatherhood.

He read several chapters as Hermione slept, occasionally glancing down at her or kissing the top of her head gently so as not to wake her.

_I cannot understand how she'd think our baby could be a muggle or a squib, _he mused. _She's the bloody brightest witch of the century! _Then it dawned on him. _Ron! _

_Of course she'd still be worried because of that stupid git. But Hermione is a woman of facts— I won't be able to help her without knowing the facts, because she's been led to believe that any miscarriage is her fault. _

Mid-thought, Hermione stirred a little, only changing positions. He kissed her head again and closed his book and laid it on the bedside table. He quietly slipped out of bed, crossed to the fireplace in their bedroom and knelt down, casting a silencing charm around him, and the fireplace. He took a pinch of Floo powder and tossed it in, calling for Malfoy Manor. He waited a few moments, after no answer and repeated the process, yelling for someone to answer. Minutes passed, and finally Draco showed up, surly and half dressed.

"What do you want, _Potter_?" the blond spat. "Pansy and I were having sex, but your _bellowing_ interrupted," he sneered.

Harry didn't have the chance to reply before Pansy joined Draco.

"Draco, behave," she snarked, gently smacking the back of his head.

Draco grunted, but didn't say anything more.

"Pansy, I'm sorry this is short notice, but Hermione is concerned that the baby may be a Squib because of that ex-git of hers. Could you maybe, come over, and reassure her? She's more likely to believe you. I'd really appreciate it," he finished, nervously scratching the back of his neck.

"Absolutely, I can. I can be there in twenty minutes," Pansy said.

"Thank you so much Pansy. Just Apparate into the lounge. I changed the wards to admit you," he replied, disconnecting the Floo call.

He cancelled the charm and stood up, exhaling in relief. He crossed the room and slipped back into bed, cuddling Hermione into his embrace again.

A short time later, Hermione stirred again, this time waking up.

"Hi," she murmured, voice full of sleep.

"Hello sleeping beauty. Do you feel any better now?" Harry asked, brushing her hair out of her face tenderly.

"A little," she responded on a yawn. She looked down at herself and back up Harry, eyes wide. "Erm, Harry, I think I need something to wear," she said, cheeks flushing.

"Right, love. I'm sorry," Harry replied, reaching for his wand. He flicked it and she was in her pyjamas in an instant. He placed his wand back on the tray and sat up a little further, looking at her.

"So I've been reading the book you purchased for me, and did you know that only 2% of babies born between a Muggleborn and a Halfblood are Squibs?" he posed, watching her facial expression change. She lay quietly, pondering the information that he'd given her, unsure of how to process it.

"Two percent? That's still a risk, Harry," she said, chewing on her lip.

"I thought you might say that, so I brought back-up," he responded, kissing her nose.

A quiet knock sounded on the door at that moment, causing Hermione to startle.

"It's alright love, it's only Pansy. She's my back-up," he said, smiling down at her.

"Come in, Pansy," he called, sitting up and helping Hermione do the same.

The door opened and the medi-witch strode in, medical bag in hand.

"I got your note, Harry. I will be glad to show you. Thanks to modern medicine and the Wizengamot for finally pulling their heads out of their 19th century arses, we can show the mum-to-be if she's having a witch,wizard, or even a mandrake," she said with a straight face.

Hermione squeaked, glaring daggers at her friend.

"Witch, relax, I'm only trying to lighten the mood," Pansy said, holding her hands up in surrender, snickering.

Harry couldn't help but chuckle, receiving the business end of Hermione's elbow in retaliation to his ribs. He grunted, rubbing his side.

"Alright, let's get down to business, shall we?" Pansy interrupted, biting her lip to contain her laughter.

Hermione fluffed the mountain of pillows, sinking back against them, her hand tightly gripping Harry's.

"I will love our baby, regardless of what he is, but I'd truly feel better if I _knew_," Hermione confessed wearily.

"I understand your concern, Hermione," Pansy acknowledged, sitting on the edge of the bed and opening her bag. "This process is relatively easy, I just need to perform the same charm that I used last time to show me the image of the baby."

Harry wrapped his arm around Hermione as they waited for Pansy to get things set up.

"Alright, Hermione, unbutton your top for me just a bit, please," Pansy said as she performed the cleaning charm on her hands and on Hermione's abdomen, once Hermione had complied.

Pansy waved her wand and gave the incantation and the same screen from her last check appeared above Hermione's belly. The pair watched in fascination as their baby boy wriggled about, even sticking his tiny thumb in his mouth and sucking it.

"Oh my...oh Harry look at our baby sucking his thumb!" Hermione gushed, the previous apprehension disappearing at once.

"I see, love. He's going to be handsome like his daddy," he said, smirking.

"We'll see," Hermione said, rolling her eyes.

Pansy snickered at them, waving her wand carefully over Hermione's abdomen.

Harry glanced down at Hermione, smiling.

Pansy smiled knowingly. "Everything looks great, and I can one hundred percent say that baby Potter is indeed a half-blood and already quite magical at that," she said.

Hermione sagged against Harry in relief.  
"Oh, thank Merlin! I mean…" she trailed off, slightly embarrassed.

Harry grinned. "'Mione it's alright. We know what you meant. I'm glad he's just healthy," he said, nuzzling her cheek.

"Is there anything else you needed?" Pansy asked, flicking her wand to end the spell and re-packing her bag.

"No, Pansy, but I really do appreciate you coming on such short notice," Harry said.

"Yes Pansy, thank you," Hermione added, slightly dazed from Harry's comment.

"No worries. Had I not gotten your Floo call I couldn't have been here. Draco wanted me to go to a Quidditch match with him later today," she groused. "But you needing me was the perfect excuse to get out of it, so thank _you,_" she said, grinning.

She disappeared at that, leaving Hermione and Harry alone.

"Married, Harry? You really want to marry me?" Hermioine asked, unsuredly.

"I've dreamed of marrying you since fifth year," he confessed sheepishly.

He pulled her into his arms again and proceeded to show her just how _much _he wanted to marry her, falling asleep contentedly against a broken headboard.


	13. Chapter Twelve

**Author's Note: Thank you all for being so patient with me! This chapter has been long awaited. Thank you as always to my Beta/Alpha, MrsRen! I own none of the Harry Potter world, I just play in it. I hope you enjoy this chapter! **

Hermione roused at eight, and only because the baby was pressing insistently on her bladder, demanding an immediate trip to the toilet. She eased out of bed so as to not wake Harry and padded to the bathroom. At nearly six months of pregnancy, that was no easy feat. Padding was inaccurate—_waddling _was more like it. Harry thought it adorable, but it annoyed Hermione to no end. She finished in the loo then exited, finding Harry sitting up in bed, hair tousled. "Good morning, love," he spoke, voice laced with sleep. He reached for his glasses and slipped them on, gazing at her.

"Hi," she replied, a hint of colour on her cheeks. "Harry...stop staring," she admonished. "I feel like a beached narwhal."

Harry leapt out of bed and reached her in three strides. "You're radiant, Hermione. You're growing our baby and your body is adapting to the changes. Please don't say that about yourself," he said, voice dropping dangerously low.

Her blushing response was plenty.

"Would you like a trip to Diagon today, sweetness?" Harry asked, lowering his head to kiss her rounded belly.

"If you do keep doing that, you can take me anywhere," she replied cheekily.

* * *

A few hours later, both were finally dressed, although Hermione had to lock Harry out of the bedroom to get dressed in peace because he kept trying to rip her clothes off and throw her on the bed. Women were usually the hormonal, horny ones during this trimester of pregnancy, but somehow _Harry _had gotten a double dose of the horniness instead of her.

Harry wrapped his arm possessively around her as they entered the Floo and called out for Diagon Alley, shutting his eyes as they were whisked away into the emerald flames. They stepped out of the private Floo at the rear of the Leaky Cauldron and slipped out of the exit into Diagon Alley. They walked hand in hand between the shops, thankful for the early morning, which meant less foot traffic and less gawking. They reached Cauble's Furniture Emporium. Harry rushed ahead of Hermione and opened the door for her, bowing cheekily as she walked past him inside.

"Good morning," the middle aged witch greeted as they

approached the long counter. "How may I help you today?" She inquired cheerily.

"We're just browsing today, but thank you," Hermione replied swiftly, tightening her hold on Harry's arm. Harry nodded at the witch politely and guided Hermione away.

They passed several rows of magically enhanced furniture, mingled in with normal furniture. When they finally reached the nursery section, Hermione glanced up at him, mildly shocked.

"I thought we were just going to the book shop," she said.

"We are, my dear witch, but we really need to organise a few things for Harry Junior's nursery," he said, smiling proudly.

"Harry Junior? Has your time with the Aurors finally caused you to lose your marbles entirely?" She said, glaring at him.

Harry's smile disappeared, replaced with a deep pout.

"I think it suits my boy, thank you very much, witch," he replied, still pouting.

Hermione couldn't bear it—she snickered, all the while Harry stood with his arms folded childishly.

"Harry that's adorable, but _veto_," Hermione said, running her hand along a highly-polished oak cradle, carved with woodland creatures.

"What do you think of this one, love?" Hermione asked, glancing back at him, doing her best to change the subject.

Harry's pout remained firmly in place for all of three Snitch seconds. "I think it's perfect," he smiled warmly, "but are you sure this is the one you'd like," he asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Yes, I am. Harry it's beautiful. Unless your Mum has your cradle from when you were a baby. Then I'd love to use that," she replied, smiling.

"Alright then, I'll owl Mum when we get home and ask" he said, pressing his lips to her forehead. "You're forgiven by the way," he whispered in her ear.

She beamed up at him as they strolled out of the furniture emporium, headed in the direction of The Wise Woman Book Shoppe.

She stopped cold at the sight of Fred and George Weasley coming down the opposite side of the alleyway, near them. George glanced at her apologetically, but Fred's eyes zeroed in on her growing bump, then glanced at her, scowling. She stared ahead bravely, but inside she was full-on panic mode. Harry somehow sensed it and guided her quickly inside the bookshoppe.

As they stood in the entryway of the shop, Hermione's face paled. Harry soothingly rubbed her lower back as he led her further inside.

"Harry, they're going to think this is Ron's baby and Morgana, help me, Molly will have a fit that I'd never hear the end of," she hissed near his ear, nails digging into his arm.

"Hermione, you're safe with me. This is your home away from home, aside from your own shop, and nobody, especially those bloody Weasley twins will run you out," he leant down, whispering in her ear, along with soothing words. "Now you wanted books, so let's see about getting you some," he said, directing her towards the Muggle fiction section. Hermione browsed the new additions, worrying her bottom lip as Harry stood guard over her. Hermione reached for a book on the nearest shelf and flipped through it, carefully fingering the pages. She felt eyes on her back, and her neck prickled. She turned around slowly, coming face to face with Harry's strong back. She peered over his shoulders and saw the Weasley twins coming towards her and froze up.

Her breath quickened in her throat and she nearly dropped the book held in her hands. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to burn the image of the twins out of her head.

Harry squared his shoulders, refusing to let them pass. "Hermoine, love, leave the books with me and I'll pay for them after I talk to these two," he said, over his shoulder. He turned a bit, keeping one eye on the menaces, and rubbed his palm over her bump, pressing his lips to her forehead. She turned and fled as fast as a pregnant woman could. Harry turned to face the two red heads again, eyes locked on theirs.

"Can I help you, gentlemen?" he asked, ice in his voice. George stood quietly, but Fred opened his mouth.

"I thought Ron was your best _mate_, Harry. Why are you out in public with a broad like Hermione? And let me guess, she's carrying our brother's sprog, too?"

Harry's stare turned dark. "First off, Ron hasn't been my _mate _in years," he spat. "Secondly, I _choose _to be seen in public in her because she's my best friend and I am not ashamed of her, unlike I was of your sister. "Finally, it's no bloody business of yours whose baby she's carrying," he smirked. He turned on his heel and went to the front then paid for the books Hermione had accumulated and left the shoppe.

* * *

The Apparition chime sounded at the Burrow, and Molly rushed out to see who had come calling. When she spotted her sons, she let out a piercing shriek as they came nearer. She galomped them both in Molly-hugs, their protests of being choked falling on deaf ears. Fred wrestled out of her embrace, wearing a grim look.

"We've"—he started as George elbowed him in the side—"I mean, I've— got something you ought to know, Mum," he said.

"Well come in and I'll make you something to eat," she said, beaming that her sons had come home for a visit.

The twins followed Molly back into the house and she shooed them upstairs to wash up as she busied herself pulling sandwiches and pumpkin juice and cake from the cooling-charmed pantry box. She placed everything on the worn table as they came bounding down the stairs. "Boys, this is not the circus. Walk properly!" she scolded, hiding a smile.

They all took their normal seats and Molly watched as her boys stuffed their faces.

"Now, dear, what did you wish to tell me?" she asked, looking at Fred.

"Oh yeah, Mum," Fred replied, mouth full of sandwich. He swallowed quickly to finish telling her. "I saw Potter and Granger walking down Diagon Alley this afternoon as we were leaving the shop. She's carrying Ron's sprog, but she's cozied up to Potter now," he scowled.

Molly frowned. "Don't worry about it, Freddie," she soothed. _That little witch will get what's coming to her_, she thought.

Fred just shrugged and polished off the last sandwich and stood up, George not far beyond him. They both kissed their mother and left, apparating as soon as they were past the boundary.

Molly flicked her wand and sent the empty dishware to the sink where they set about washing themselves. She summoned her stationery box and opened the lid when it landed in front of her. She selected her favourite writing quill and the infamous red parchment and matching envelope, writing a scathing letter to Hemrione, accusing her of denying her access to her unborn grandchild, amongst other things. When finished, she whistled for Errol, who hesitatingly flew toward her and extended his leg for her to tie the envelope to and slowly winged his way out the open window.

* * *

Errol screeched loudly as he came through the open window at Harry's flat. Hermione was reading, situated comfortably against a mountain of pillows that Harry insisted she have, a book propped on her belly. Harry came striding in, intercepting the owl before it got to Hermione. He recognised the familiar penmanship and the red envelope.

"What is it Harry?" she asked, raising up a bit.

"A Howler from Molly," he said, scowling. He flicked his wand, using an unfamiliar incantation to disarm the thing and shooed Errol out, the owl hooting grumpily.

"Harry, I'm perfectly capable of handling one of Molly Weasley's infamous letters. Please let me see it," she said, holding her hand out.

"I know you are, darling, but you have to remember our little Potter's health is more important," he replied, "I'll save this and forward it to Robards. Alright?"

She nodded slowly and huffed. "Alright, but eventually I will find out what she had to say."

"Of course you will," he smirked. "Sometimes I think you should have taken the job with Robards instead of me," he said cheekily.

She chucked a pillow at him, hitting him in the chest, eliciting a soft oof.

* * *

Harry glanced bleary-eyed at the calendar on the refrigerator as he sipped his coffee. Hermione had an antenatal visit with Pansy, their Healer, this afternoon. They were both quite excited, but also quite nervous. Hermione had gotten a fresh batch of hormones days ago and while he had benefited well from them, it was tiring. They had nearly broken the headboard the night before in a fit of rough, yet passionate lovemaking. She couldn't keep her hands off him! He chuckled quietly as he drained the coffee and placed the mug quietly in the sink. He trudged back to their bedroom and pushed the door open gently.

Hermione had given up the pretence of trying to sleep alone ages ago, instead preferring to be curled against Harry as she slept. Harry crossed the room and just stared at his witch as she slept, her left hand curled protectively around their unborn child. Warmth flooded his chest as he looked down in pride. She seemed to know he was staring because her eyes fluttered open at that moment. " 'Arry? Wha's wrong?" she asked sleepily.

"Good morning beautiful," he said, leaning down and kissing her, then where his child resided."

She smiled, still sleepy. "Mmm, Harry," she purred quietly, arching her back gently, reminiscent of a cat.

She reached up to grasp his shirt to pull him down, but he gently pried her fingers off. "Not right now, love. Your check up is in a few hours and you've still got to eat and shower, right?" he asked, kissing her fingertips.

She grumbled but pushed the sheets away and sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes. Harry chuckled as he looked at her wild hair.

"Are you laughing at my hair?" she growled, self consciously patting it.

"O-of course not," he stuttered, biting his lip. She fixed him with a scowl. He held his hands out and hoisted her up, kissing her again to hopefully realign himself in her good graces. She moved around him, heading for the bathroom.

"Harry, could you please cook me some eggs, sunny side up? Ooh and some melon and grapes too, please," she called out from the bathroom.

"Sure, love," he replied, nearly dashing out to the kitchen to fulfill her request.

* * *

The posh waiting area of Bellflower Clinic did little to soothe Hermione's nerves. The walls were a pale cream colour, flanked by colourful photographs of mothers and children. Harry squeezed her hand, sensing her hesitation as they dusted off after stepping from the Floo. She approached the desk nearest the Floo and waited until the kindly witch greeted her. "Hello, welcome. May I have your name please?"

"Hermione Granger. I'm here to see Healer Pansy Malfoy," the witch replied, voice shaking slightly.

The receptionist gave a clipped nod, still smiling and handed a clipboard to Hermione. "She'll be right out, but please fill out the first two forms and initial the last page."

Hermione accepted the clipboard and headed to the pair of seats Harry had chosen for them in a more private nook of the room. She sat down and started filling out the paperwork quickly, but stopped at the allergy section. She paused, a bit shy. She jotted down shellfish, glancing over at Harry.

"Hmm; didn't know you had a shellfish allergy. In all the years I've known you, I never knew you were allergic to that. Shellfish are bonkers by being allergic to you," he replied cheekily. She smiled, a light blush on her cheeks. She turned her attention to the paperwork, completing it in no time. She returned the paperwork to the receptionist and resumed her seat.

Harry lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles, keeping her hand in his. "I can't wait to see my boy," he gushed, not hiding his pride. He didn't have time to say much else, as a nurse, dressed in pale pink scrubs opened the large wooden door and called for the pair. She waited for them to join her and allowed the door to shut. Harry stood off to the side leaning against the pale green wall of the wide corridor. "Hello, Miss Granger. I'm Nurse Josephs, and I'll be helping Healer Malfoy today. Let's get your weight first before I take you to your room," she said, smiling gently at the young woman trailing behind her.

Hermione handed Harry her bag and slipped her shoes off, stepping on the scale as indicated by the nurse. She stood still as Nurse Josephs recorded her weight and breathed a sigh of relief when she was allowed to step down. The nurse jotted down the information in Hermione's chart and then escorted them to their room for the appointment.

"Alright, Miss Granger. Healer Malfoy will be in shortly. Make yourself comfortable," she smiled and then closed the door behind her.

Hemione glanced around the spacious room, taking in everything. Her previous appointments had been in the comfort of hers and Harry's flat, but Pansy had encouraged her to come to the clinic for antenatal care until she delivered. The walls were a pale pink, with hardwood floors matching that of the reception area. Highly polished sconces graced each empty space on the wall. A plush chair was situated near a long cabinet while a soft green leather examination chair resided in the adjacent area, medical equipment gracing the space above. The other wall was occupied by a desk, littered with various notes and equipment, while a beautiful meadow painting pulled the entire room together.

Harry took a seat in the chair near the cabinet while Hermione lowered herself into the exam chair, hands nervously twisting as she waited for Pansy to come in. Harry looked at her, sending her a reassuring smile, which eased Hermione's nerves a bit.

* * *

What seemed an eternity later, a knock came on the door and it opened, revealing Pansy. She stepped in, smiling at the couple in the room and closed the door behind her. Pansy ushered them further into the room, bracing her palm against Hermione's back protectively, and helped her get more comfortable in the exam chair, before pressing her wand to a carved rune in order to raise it to her waist level. "How are you feeling today?"

"Nervous, actually-" Harry started.

"I meant Hermione."

With his cheeks darkening, he rubbed the back of his neck. "Right."

Hermione laughed, and rested her hands in her lap. "Fine. I feel like I've swallowed a beach ball, and _everything _is swollen, but fine. Harry probably has more to say than I do."

"Just the, erm," he cast his eyes toward the ceiling. "Well, her hormones are exhausting."

Pansy snorted. "How so?"

"Aside from the fact that she's _never _sated…", he trailed off. "She's always wanting sex, and telling her no is getting _increasingly _difficult," he finished, cheeks darkening again.

Hermione's own cheeks flushed to match his, all the while Pansy stood gripping the arm of the exam chair, laughing. Hermione clearing her throat had Pansy's laughter dying in her throat.

"Let's check your vitals first and then a quick exam— then we can see how baby Potter is doing," she said. She turned and picked up the file from the desk, flipping through it. "Alright, just lie still and I will get your vitals." She flicked her wand several times, Hermione's vitals appearing in the airspace beside her. "Hmm. Everything is looking good, except for your blood pressure. It's a bit high, but we will keep an eye on that," she said, flicking her wand again, the vitals disappearing, then reappearing neatly printed in Hermione's file. Pansy took another look at the file, brow furrowing neatly. "You're a bit underweight, Hermione," she said, glancing up at the witch.

"Erm, yes, I know—"  
"It's alright, Hermione. In spite of the circumstances, you're doing well," Pansy said sympathetically. "I am going to give you a prescription for a nutrition potion to help you gain some much needed weight."

Hermione nodded her assent as Harry eyed her. He cleared his throat, about to speak, but Hermione cut him off before he could utter a word.

"Harry's been _incredibly _overprotective—to the point of being annoying," she said. Pansy snickered as she turned to dim the lights.

"Alright, Hermione, lay back a bit," Pansy directed.

The familiar measuring tape appeared and whizzed around her rotund belly, taking measurements. It rolled itself back up when finished and the numbers appeared automatically in Hermione's chart. Pansy glanced at it and then back at Hermione.

"You're measuring a bit small, but you're still within the normal range. Pansy laid her hands on Hermione's bump, humming absentmindedly. "Any other complaints?" the Healer asked.

"None, really. It's been a good pregnancy, and the baby's been moving about a lot," Hermione answered.

"You're in the last trimester, Hermione," Pansy looked at her and then at Harry. Hermione bit her lip nervously. Harry squeezed her thigh comfortingly, allowing her to relax.

Pansy crossed to the desk and picked up a white box. She opened it and handed the contents inside to Harry.

"This is a magically enhanced fetal monitor that is commonly used in Muggle antenatal care. I want you to wear this at all times and the included handheld will record the baby's movements. But if it stops, you know the drill, Hermione. I don't mean to scare you, and the baby is healthy, but there is always a small chance that something might happen," she said, glancing at Harry.

"Can you tell me what pains she might experience?" he asked, his leg jiggling up and down.

"Contractions—the real ones—come in waves. It starts low and then rises before going away slowly, and her belly will feel hard if it's real. Braxton Hicks, or false labour come and go. They don't increase in strength, and oftentimes will go away if she changes positions or uses the bathroom."

Harry's head swam with the influx of information, but he looked at Hermione, smiling determinately.

"I want to take birthing classes, Pansy," Hermione suddenly spoke up, her eyes betraying her slight nervousness.

"Of course, Hermione. I can arrange that for you, if you like," Pansy answered soothingly, placing a hand on the witch's shoulder. Hermione's breath burst out in relief, shoulders sagging a bit. She summoned a handful of colourful flyers and placed them in Harry's hands.

"You can look over these together in the meanwhile. You'll be able to tour where you'll give birth, meet the hospital staff, and familiarise yourself with your birthing and after care plans.

Hermione nodded, slightly dazed.

"Oh and one more thing. It's best to only travel by Floo in the last three months of pregnancy due to the uncertainty of the baby's magical levels."

"Any other questions?"

Hermione shook her head.

"Well, if you have any later on, you know you can Floo call me. I'll see you again in three weeks. Both of you," Pansy stated. She exited the examination room, leaving the pair to their thoughts.

Harry clasped Hermione's hand tightly, lifting it to kiss her knuckles as they departed the clinic for home.


End file.
